The Brightest Star
by karldin
Summary: Partings are inevitable in the world for all its denizens, be it elf, human or dwarf. The living spirit is exhibited by all beings as the will to survive, as they overcome all pain and suffering to achieve their goals. Both partings and the struggle to survive change people, but certain traits are always the same in everyone, binding them all. Post Inheritance.
1. Chapter 1

**Dear Readers.**

**Greetings. I am venturing into a new fandom, with a lot of new readers. This series is very dear to me, as it was the first fantasy fiction I ever read. I always thought it was a shame how the last book ended...it had a somewhat ****_rushed_**** feel to it.**

**But it can never be debated that the avenues left for a possible sequel are several. This is my attempt to portray such a story. I hope you will like my story, and do give critical reviews. We are all here to improve, after all.**

**Thank you!**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

THE BRIGHTEST STAR

CHAPTER 1

The wind blew benevolently, stirring the calm city sitting resplendent in its golden twilight. It blew over streets and beautiful buildings, over dragons and riders flying high in the sky.

It blew over Eragon Shadeslayer as he stood tall upon the cliff that overlooked his city, making his white robes ripple. He took in the touching sight of the beautiful city he had founded, nay…built almost with his very lifeblood. The city he built with his original retinue to represent once more the rise of a golden era. The rise of the Dragon Riders.

It never failed to gladden his heart, the sight of the sky above _Aiedail_. Aiedail, the heart of the Riders' return, the city of silver and gold…the second Doru Areaba. It was an uplifting sight to see, his city, full of soaring marble towers and beautifully massive buildings of granite. It was the most stunning city he had ever laid eyes on, the product of the beauty within him and his twelve elven guardians. It lay upon a huge isle far from the shores of Alagaesia, perfect to nurture the first generation of riders after the fall.

_And us_, came the rumbling voice of all his Eldunari.

The city had been named after the brightest star in the night sky quite aptly, for it was indeed the brightest star for a land that was reeling from war. A war and time of terrors, whose horrors had not yet faded from the memories of the people of Alagaesia.

Though it had been a hundred and twenty years, the memories lingered still. The sacrifices made by the races of Alagaesia to overthrow Galbatorix were still sung of by minstrels, in court and village square alike. The Dark King had blighted the land almost permanently, so much so that Eragon had doubted whether the damage could be healed at all.

_Look upon the city, Eragon. We have done it. We have ignited the flames that will illuminate the glory of the riders for centuries to come…though it has been a long time. A long time indeed_, came Saphira's rich voice as Eragon felt her approaching Aiedail.

Affection overtook him as always as he heard Saphira, his Dragon. She was the oldest living Dragon now, if one discounted the Eldunari. It had taken both Rider and Dragon a hundred years to restart their order, the order of the Dragon Riders. To bring it to what it was today was no small effort for Eragon and his friends.

For friends they are, mused Eragon as he leaped from the Cliff enjoying the rush of air and the feeling of being alive. _Catch me, Saphira!_ He shouted.

The air rippled with concussion as Saphira swept in below Eragon's rapidly falling form, catching him expertly on her back. _One would think you would tire of this game after a hundred years, Eragon. Why not have Sahloknir catch you for once? He adores you almost as much as I do._

_I adore you much more than I do Sahloknir, Saphira. Laetri would be angry if I monopolized too much on her Dragon…unnatural how Sahloknir seems attached to me,_ he said as Saphira flew over their city. She was a sight to behold, a Dragon who shone like a cluster of jewels in the air. Drifting neatly through the air she landed in the specific landing area for Riders.

He glanced up once more, and smiled with all his heart as he saw the beautiful blue sky filled with Dragons of all sizes, flying as free as they were intended to be. Looking back at his century-odd period of being alive, he had no doubt that every drop of blood, sweat and tears he had shed to get to this day was worth it.

_The Riders are ready to enter Alagaesia once more, Eragon _said Saphira with some excitement as she took off once more to teach the young ones, the little dragons which still filled Eragon's heart with pleasure and awe. Aiedail was now home to fifty full riders young though they were, and eighty riders still in training. The younglings were a hundred in number and still growing.

He strode through the landing area, a beautiful wide meadow lined with exotic trees. He himself had sung out the trees in the beginning as he trained in the art of elven tree-singing. The memory of those first few years in Aiedail made him smirk faintly at his youth, remembering himself blundering around with his first riders and guards in an effort to build something lasting.

_I love you, Saphira, _said Eragon as he entered his quarters that were modelled exactly like Oromis' was. _It was only you who kept me from falling into madness during our first decade here…we have made our home. I wonder if we really should initiate contact with Alagaesia. That land has brought naught but misery to our order…and we still have so much potential for growth. I am afraid, Saphira_, he whispered to his partner as he seated himself on his favourite chair to begin his review of his duties.

_Afraid of what, my Eragon? Our enemies are all dead and our friends flourish once more in Alagaesia. This we know well from the rare communications our elven students get from Du Weldenvarden. We would know more if we had not cut ourselves off so completely from Alagaesia,_ said Saphira with sadness throbbing in her rich voice.

Eragon, however, felt a little regret but nothing more for himself, but for Saphira his heart tore. He had nothing left in Alagaesia anymore, but he knew Saphira did. Firnen had been almost a mate to her before they left those lands forever and he hated himself for the fact that she was separated from the male Dragon for so long.

Even more regret bloomed in Saphira's voice as she said,_ You never stopped me from leaving, Eragon. But how could I leave my rider even for a short while when he needed me? After those first ten years of your suffering, I swore never to leave you again for my own needs. Do not blame yourself…for you lost as much as or more than I did._

As he saw reports of how the novices were faring, he thought about what Saphira had said. He had not spoken to _her_ in a hundred years, not even once. As the years rolled by, she had slowly faded out of his heart and he had lost the infatuation he had for her a long time ago now.

_I wonder sometimes, Saphira, if they were all nothing but a figment of some dream. My love for Arya was nothing but a child's infatuation with the mysterious and beautiful,_ he said with certainty. He read the paper with growing pride as he saw the progress of the apprentice riders.

_MY apprentices! _He still thought with some shock. Even after he had taken Dusan and Alanna under his wing some eighty years ago he had not lost his amazement with that fact. Saphira snorted at the back of his mind, amused as always by Eragon's naiveté.

_Eragon, elves have called us 'master' for a century and so do the other Riders. They have grown under our guidance for many a year now, and we have rightly earned the respect we are given! I wonder when you will see yourself clearly… _she mused to herself.

_I don't even know my true name anymore_, said Eragon as he leaned back. _Do you remember how you wondered I would turn out in the next hundred years or so, back in Alagaesia when I was young? What do you think?_

The voice of Umaroth came rumbling up in his mind like falling boulders, washing away his doubts. _You have turned out well, Rider. Vrael himself would be impressed at how much you have grown…you are on your way to becoming the greatest Leader our order has ever had._

Eragon accepted the praise humbly as Umaroth was not wont to praising lightly. He had indeed seen much and learned much since he begun on the quest to find a place for his order.

_Umaroth said it, Eragon. I am proud of you, more than words can say. But Ildarien is coming up to your quarters to discuss plans, I assume. Think carefully, Eragon. Do not let your past blind you to the idea of returning to Alagaesia…there is no such thing as a clean break, _advised Saphira as she committed herself fully to instructing the young Dragons.

Eragon sighed, and willed the parchments on the table to sort themselves by a smooth shuffling, they did, and neatly floated to a corner.

….

"_Ebrithil_" greeted the elven rider Ildarien, looking at Eragon with the deepest respect in his eyes. The elves had very long memories and it had been a mere hundred years to them since he killed Galbatorix.

"You wished to speak with me, Ildarien?" enquired Eragon, giving the elf his complete attention. Ildarien was a talented mage and Rider with great potential. He was the newest Rider to join the ranks of their Order, being inducted a mere five years ago.

But Eragon liked him nevertheless, as he was the first elf in his experience that laughed and enjoyed like humans. A young native of Silthrim, Ildarien had been sent to his Isle three decades ago after Isidar hatched for him. He had been the one Rider on the Island who had pushed for a return to Alagaesia.

"Ebrithil, most of the other masters have agreed to our proposal. Master Blodhgarm said the Nine await only your approval for our Riders to land in Alagaesia after a century. You are our leader and without your support, nothing can go well for us. History has shown us this many times…so without your approval, Ebrithil, we shall let go of this plan" he said passionately. Eragon looked closely at the young Rider, thinking deeply. This debate had been going on for a decade now, and had reached a high point after Ildarien spoke with his typical eloquence.

_A decision must be made now, I am afraid. The young ones are justified in wanting return to Alagaesia…this is only a haven and home for our order. Riders are forged by the world, not by their homes. Umaroth, Glaedr and Saphira…you speak for the Dragons of our order. What is the advice of the Dragons? _He asked of them.

_As it has always been, Eragon. The land of Alagaesia cannot be avoided, for the free races included in the agreement are there. For the balance to be complete in that continent, the presence of Riders is required_, said Glaedr, causing Umaroth and his Saphira to hum in agreement.

Eragon closed his eyes. It seemed it was time for the return…it had to happen eventually. His own attachment for the land had dwindled, only his attachment to Orik, Roran and his family remained. He regarded even Arya as a friend he spent his youth with, a great Alfakyn who helped shape him into what he was today. It seemed age really did bring wisdom.

"Ebrithil?" asked Ildarien, seeing his Leader close his eyes for several minutes. He had heard the faint whispers of thought pulsing from Eragon and assumed he was consulting with someone.

Eragon opened his eyes, and spoke a single word: "_Blodhgarm"_, infusing it with magic. Ildarien shivered as the augmented call echoed all over the city. Moments later he felt the answer of Blodhgarm, and sure enough the tent flap opened a minute later to reveal the Elf Blodhgarm. The elf inclined his head with respect, having forsaken the elven greeting long ago with Eragon. Him and the Nine companions had striven with Eragon like never before, and the product of their effort was stood around them as the capital of the Riders.

"Yes, Eragon-elda?" he asked with his melodious voice. Ildarien bowed to him with respect, causing Blodhgarm to acknowledge him with a nod. They both turned to Eragon, who seemed to be observing both of them with a smile upon his face.

"Thank you for coming, Blodhgarm. Is Laetri still teaching?" he asked. Laetri was an extremely beautiful female elf of his original Elven guard, a mighty warrior in her own right. Of his Nine companions he was closest to her and Blodhgarm, though he enjoyed a deep friendship with all of them.

"Jared and his dragon are having trouble with aerial manoeuvres, so Laetri is helping them. She sends her sincerest apologies, Eragon-elda" he said in a soft voice. Eragon waved it off, knowing that Laetri was only following the one most important law in the capital of the Riders:

_Teaching and Learning precedes everything else, except the most urgent of situations._

"Blodhgarm and Ildarien, I have reached a decision on the matter of returning to Alagaesia" he said in a distant voice, looking at beyond them to a place only he could see. Blodhgarm looked at his leader, interested. The past century after the war had turned Eragon Shadeslayer into a true Rider and a man of enormous wisdom and experience. _One century in the Shadeslayer's turbulent life is the same as five centuries of elven experience, _thought Blodhgarm with sadness as he thought of how much their leader had sacrificed in life to restore the Order.

Giving up family and friends closer to him than his own soul was only the beginning for Eragon as was giving up his all-consuming love for Arya. What he had endured for them after leaving Alagaesia…Blodhgarm shivered. Those events had changed Eragon completely, making him wise beyond his years. Now, it was almost as if he spoke again to Vrael or _Togira Ikonoka_ when he spoke to Eragon.

"Full riders who wish to return to Alagaesia may do so with my approval. But at a given time no more than ten Riders are to be away from Aiedail…and no Rider should be away for more than a year at a time. This is all I can allow at the moment, for I fear our Order must grow and be able to put forth a strong and stable core here at Aiedail, a constant presence of two hundred master Riders. Until then I am afraid this is my decision. We will not compromise ourselves ever again" he said in a strong voice.

_Well said, Eragon _came Saphira's approving voice joining with the approving rumble of the many Eldunari. He could feel the approval and joy wash over him and knew he had done the best he could.

Ildarien bowed low, "Thank you, Ebrithil. For now, only five of us have finished training our apprentices and are in a position to leave for Alagaesia. The others still have many duties"

"Which five?" asked Blodhgarm curiously.

"Myself, Yaela, Nuada, Barristan and Leya. We wish to once more be a part of our brethren's Saturnalias, Ebrithil, if only for a short while. Barristan is a very young human, and wants to see the Elven capital and our Queen" explained Ildarien.

A flicker of regret passed through Eragon's eyes at the mention of Arya, he had scarce thought of her after the events of the first two decades. Blodhgarm caught even that small emotion and frowned slightly.

"Do my Nine companions wish to return as well?" asked Eragon, looking at Blodhgarm who answered firmly.

"Our place is with you, Eragon-elda. We will not return if you do not. Yaela is bound by oath, so she alone will go."

At this Eragon sighed. "Then, my friend, I am afraid you will be here with me for a very long time. I cannot leave my Riders at this turning of the ages"

Ildarien nodded sadly. "You have given up much for us, Ebrithil, and endured much for our sake. If there is any message you wish for me to convey to your…your friends?"

"Only that I am well" said Eragon. "My brother Roran must be long dead, and Murtagh can no longer be found. When you meet Arya, please tell her that I am alive and well. Give her my greetings" said Eragon, making to rise.

"Assemble your five in the training grounds, Ildarien. I will show you the last spell my master Oromis taught me, the spell of Instant Transportation" said Eragon as he floated Brisingr to himself with a wave of his hand.

"Ebrithil, is that not meant only for objects?" questioned Ildarien. Eragon only smiled briefly as he exited the tent, saying: "Magic is only as limited as the mind, Ildarien-vodhr"

…

"You wished to speak with me, Arya?" came a strong voice, causing Arya to look up at Roran Stronghammer. The elven lords and ladies seated in the council frowned slightly, before mastering their emotions. Roran had given up his position as Duke of Carvahall about eighty years ago and had retired to Ellesmera to spend his final years, the Queen allowing it as he was a friend of the elves and hero of the war.

But when he had touched the Menoa tree, unforeseen things had happened and Roran seemed to stop aging at sixty years old serving as the Queen's advisor ever since. Much of his spirit was lost to him after the eventual death of his beloved Katrina, though his descendants lived on still as the Dukes of Carvahall.

He was one of the most trusted of the Queen's advisors, as much as even Dathedr. Mainly because he was the last link the elves of Du Weldenvarden had to Eragon Shadeslayer and more personally because he used no masks or played no elvish games. He was the one true friend Arya had after the death of Nasuada and the others, and her last link to Eragon who was lost to them for the last hundred years.

"Yes, Roran. Please follow me, all. We have guests who are long overdue." said Arya, stepping down from her throne and walking out of the throne room. She had governed her people admirably for the past hundred years, winning the support and friendship of many of her kin.

As she stepped into the breath-taking beauty of Ellesmera, Lord Fiolr questioned: "If I may ask: who are the guests, your Majesty?" The elves of the city saw their queen leading their lords to the gates, and fell in behind her when she whispered in their minds to join her.

The surreal procession of elves continued to the entrance to Ellesmera. The green Dragon Firnen flew over them, casting a great Shadow over the elven entourage. Arya's Dragon had matured considerably in the past century, reaching an enviable size of about half of Glaedr when he was alive. Roran heard thoughts of Firnen projected to Ellesmera itself as the green Dragon roared with exultation, causing birds to fly away in all directions.

_They are here! Our brethren have come to us at last, Arya. After so long alone, so long…_his longing and forlornness caused the elves to shed tears along with Arya. Roran couldn't hide his shock…the Riders were here after one century of forsaking the land they were meant to protect?

_Is…is Eragon here?_, he thought to himself with mixed emotions. He had not spoken to Eragon for so long now…not since the war. He had been extremely angry with his brother for leaving them so completely. But his anger had abated when Katrina died and her last words were said.

_Roran looked at Katrina's prone form with tears falling down his aged face, his children all around him. His wife had contracted an illness incurable, and the nearest elven healer was too far to send for._

_"Roran…my love. Please…please…if you see Eragon again…forgive him. Take him back. Do not let him go…Roran…" she had whispered at the last hour of her fulfilling life._

_She had died peacefully that night, leaving him alone in Ellesmera._

The open jubilation of the elves snapped him out of his tragic memories, fireworks and lights exploding in huge colourful bursts as the elves pointed their hands to the sky randomly.

_That's right, the hundred years are but a passing of a single season for these elves_, he thought bitterly. For him it had been an eternity of loneliness as he had none of his family left with him. Katrina was gone, Eragon was missing, and his children did their duties at Carvahall.

He was alone.

_I am sorry, Stronghammer_. _The riders I sense are not your cousin. I am sorry_, said Firnen's deep and compassionate voice in his head. Roran shook himself and prepared to meet Eragon's representatives. At least news of his long lost brother would be welcome.

….

Arya watched the sky as five Dragons appeared, each of them shining bright in a different colour. Two were a shade of brown, two were light green and one was grey. The sharp elven eyes could pick out their details, and the details of the riders who rode them. Her people sang praises of the revered creatures as they approached them, landing like five shooting stars.

_I am here, beloved _said Firnen in her head, his voice vibrating powerfully. Firnen landed beside her as she faced the Riders long lost to Alagaesia. She strode forward majestically, meeting the Riders in the middle ground between them, beneath the dusty leaves of Du Weldenvarden.

Four Elves and One human. She recognized Yaela and Nuada from the war, they were great spell weavers. They were in Eragon's personal guard when he fought the empire. She watched with steely eyes as Yaela strode forward from the line of Riders standing together with their Dragons, making the elven greeting to the Queen.

"Greetings, Arya Drottningu…many years have passed since we set eyes on Ellesmera. Many years indeed…we bring you the greetings and salutations of Eragon Shadeslayer, and the greetings of the Riders of Aiedail" she said in her strong but melodious voice. The other four Riders bowed also in unison, causing the Elves to jump for joy. Firnen however was engaged in a silent communion with the brethren he had not seen for so long a time.

"What salutations?" snarled Roran as he looked at Yaela. The ancient and beautiful elf seemed to look at him with shock and then pity, which infuriated him even more. She had no right to pity anyone, much less him! The years might have taken their toll…but his title was still kept deservedly.

"What salutations does my cousin have for the family he forsook? He was not there for the anointing of my sons and daughters, nor was he there for the birth of my grandchildren! And he called himself my brother!" here Roran shook his head bitterly. "Katrina asked me to forgive him, but I don't think I will. Eragon is all but dead to me!" he announced with anger lacing his tone. He thought he had accepted Eragon's actions, but it turned out that the feelings were merely buried deep.

"Calm yourself, Roran" said Arya's musical voice as the Elves all looked at him with compassion. Roran stared dumbly as Arya strode even closer to the five Riders, her beauty and nobility not diminished in the least. If anything, she had become all the more alluring to men…like the moon that grows fuller as the time passes.

"We are curious about what Eragon has built after all these years…Yaela, you and your Riders will be housed in the Riders' sector of Ellesmera. I would then like you to join me for a feast in Tialdari hall. We want to know what Eragon has accomplished in the past century, and the fate of the order of the Riders" she said stiffly.

"We would be honoured" murmured Yaela, noting how the Queen excluded herself from the Order of Riders. "But we must properly introduce ourselves and our Dragons…I am Yaela, and this is my Dragon Fundor", she said of a brown Dragon behind her.

The elf with the light green Dragon stepped forward and made the Elven gesture of courtesy. "I am Ildarien, and this is my Dragon Isidar" indicating his enormous Dragon, almost as big as Firnen.

"I am Nuada, and this is my Dragon Domiel" said a silver haired elf, with wise and experienced eyes. His own green Dragon looked at the assembled elves with similar eyes of wisdom.

"Leya and this is Ragnar" she said of the large brown Dragon. The human stepped forward, and looked around with wonder and amazement.

"I am Barristan and this is Cirnathor" he said of the grey Dragon. Ildarien stepped forth and confronted Roran with steely eyes, but Roran did not flinch.

"Do _not_ insult Eragon-elda in front of me, Roran Stronghammer. You may be his family, but you do not understand what he has gone through to nurture us" he said in an ice cold voice. "Be careful of what you say to us again" he said, and climbed upon Isidar and the others followed suit. Before long, they were but shining specks in the sky flying towards their quarters in Ellesmera.

_The Riders seem very protective of Eragon_ murmured Arya. _What did he do to gain their loyalty so completely? He was but a youth when he left these lands so long ago...perhaps I was wrong about leaving the Riders to their own devices. Now I do not understand the hearts of my own comrades_...

_He is different, Arya. Very different from the love struck young man who you rejected under the trees at Agaeti blodhren, and from the battle worn youth who left these lands. My brethren seemed to respect him absolutely, and we do not give respect easily_ said Firnen in Arya's mind.

Sadness ran through Arya is she considered this. Eragon and she had shared much during the war, becoming closer than even best friends. They teetered on the edge of love, but duty pulled them apart as it usually did.

_Maybe I should have chosen to be a Rider, rather than the queen. My life would at least be my own, and then_ she whispered to Firnen, who snorted. _You made the right decision, Arya. Do not doubt yourself now._

_You are right as always, Firnen _thought Arya to herself, but Firnen could see right into her heart. He could see that Arya's fondness for Eragon had not diminished the slightest bit…indeed it had grown tremendously in the past century.

He saw right through to the concealed hurt in the deepest recesses of her mind. When Arya parted with Eragon, she did not think it would be for this long with not even a word from him. Firnen had been her sole support for a century, as she withered and buried herself in duty to her people. Buried her slowly growing feelings for Eragon in her heart of hearts, and dedicated herself fully to the elven Nation.

Eragon had not even contacted them once personally, leaving the logistics to the Nine elven companions. They knew absolutely nothing of what had happened to him after they parted…and that unnerved Arya more than anything. Eragon was the most precious person she cherished from her youth as Nasuada and the others had passed into the void a long time ago.

_I thought I did not love him, Firnen. I thought our parting was for the best, breaking beforehand something that could never truly be. He was so young…I wonder what happened to him after all these years._

_Arya, please. He was but a boy, then. You would have been a bad match for each other when he was but twenty, and you were hundred. But now…things are different, _said Firnen confidently.

Arya just turned her lovely face, beautiful even by elven standards, towards the soaring Riders they were hosting. For many years now, she felt somewhat...empty…with Eragon gone. Roran was at best a friend, Nasuada was a close companion. But Eragon…Eragon she had shared her soul with, her deepest fears and even her true name.

When such a person parted from her with such permanence, it hurt her more than words could say. In her trancelike state that was her sleep, she saw only visions of Eragon leaving her aboard the _Talita._ Leaving her forever, pulled apart from her by something much larger than them.

_I hope he comes home someday, Firnen. I think I hurt him too much when I rejected his advances all those years ago, when I let him go alone from the shores of Alagaesia, _she whispered sadly, a lone tear coursing down her beautiful face.

_Time heals all wounds, Arya _soothed Firnen as he soared to join his brothers. _I will be with my brethren for now. There is much to know and learn of our new Order._

….

Roran sat himself at the seat reserved for him at the throne room, next to the knotted throne. At the right hand sat Dathedr, looking resplendent in his robes of white. He sighed as he saw the Elven lords of Ellesmera filing into the room and seating themselves gracefully, these were a troublesome lot. He had gained some knowledge of the involute game they played after living here for so long, but he found them distasteful what with their cold faces and indirect speech.

_But we are gathered here for more important things, Stronghammer. I wish you would control yourself for now…we can demand answers of them only if you remain calm. I am having enough trouble reining Arya in, you know_ added Firnen mischievously. Roran shook his head at the dragon, and returned to his brooding.

Elves, as was their wont, had immortalized the story of Arya and Eragon in song. The sad parting of the two was sung of in every city of the elves, and had even spread into some parts of the now Broddring Kingdom.

"Let the council begin" said Arya, looking up regal and beautiful. Roran in fact understood what Eragon felt, how deep his love was for Arya.

The Riders of Aiedail walked in proudly, and knelt to the Elven Queen. "Rise, Riders" said Arya, and they rose. The Rider Ildarien stepped forth and bowed to the entire council.

"Eragon-elda sends his greetings to the elven court, Arya Drottningu. We only wish to remain in Elvenland for a short time, and return to our home. It is hard indeed to remain apart from Du Weldenvarden for any length of time" said Ildarien.

"You are welcome here, Riders. But the order of Riders owes its autonomy and heritage to the elven throne, and we would like information. Our attempts at contacting you have been futile as your Isle is as secure as Du Weldenvarden itself. Why have you closed yourselves off to the world, to us?" she questioned in a sharp.

_Gently, Arya _admonished Firnen's voice. The massive Green dragon watched through Arya as the five Riders stood proudly, not even flinching at Arya's anger.

Dathedr stood up, facing the Riders stoically.

"We need to speak to Eragon Shadeslayer, Riders. This is the demand of the Elven court. We have been sundered from the saviour of Alagaesia for too long, and it is our heartfelt wish to speak with him" asked Dathedr. Arya's face flickered its surprise, not even having considered that alternative.

The truth was that she had long given up on seeing Eragon any time soon. Her acceptance of the fact was so great that her mind shied away from anything that opposed this.

Her heart beat faster at the prospect of facing Eragon after all these years. _We have changed so much, Firnen. I am the queen of my race, and he is the leader of the Riders _she said uncertainly to Firnen.

_You must speak with him_. _Do not part with him, Arya. Grab this one chance to contact Eragon…I doubt you will get another, _said Firnen firmly.

"Lord Dathedr speaks the truth, Ildarien. We need to speak to Eragon, it is of the utmost importance. I _must _speak with Eragon, now!" she ordered with all the might of a proven warrior behind her.

To his credit, Ildarien did not lose his composure. He looked at his companions, obviously communicating by mind. Arya waited with a faint sense of trepidation as the Riders consulted one another…she hoped they would consent.

"We agree" said Ildarien. "Do you wish to speak with him now, Majesty?"

"Yes, but in private" said Arya. "I require only the presence of Dathedr, Roran and Fiolr. The council is adjourned for now" she said firmly, and rose to go to her quarters. The rest of the court bowed deeply to her and dispersed.

_I will see you now, Eragon. Let us see what the past century has done to you and Saphira. I hope time heals all wounds, as Firnen said_ thought Arya, knowing that otherwise the pain of seeing Eragon would be great.

_He is different, Arya. That much Cirnathor told me,_ came the deep voice of Firnen.

….


	2. Chapter 2

**My update for the day. Enjoy, and rest assured that my other fics will be updated regularly as well. **

**Salutations,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 2

In Tialdari Hall, two elf lords leaned forwards with calm faces with only their eyes betraying their eagerness. A hundred years was not as long a time for them as it was for humans, but still it was a notable duration.

Arya watched impassively, her nobly beautiful face not betraying a single emotion as Ildarien raised his hand. Surprise ran through her as she saw the Rider utter no words, instead she saw his face take on a curious expression. It was as if he were praying, pleading for help.

_He can cast magic without words? Impressive. If this is the ability of one of his younger students, I wonder what has happened to Eragon_, came Firnen's voice. Arya wondered the same thing as she gripped the arms of the knotted throne tight. Her mother, herself and a handful of other master magicians were able to perform magic without words, not to mention Oromis or Eragon himself.

It was a very great talent to manipulate magic directly even on a small scale, and not even the greatest elves tried it without careful deliberation.

Her heart beat faster as she saw a slight shimmering in the middle of the hall, like a heat shimmer in the middle of the desert…the air itself _solidified_ from floor to ceiling, colors spreading across its clear surface like a blooming Fairth.

What was revealed on the projection was a meadow, lush and green. The sun shone high in the sky and once could almost feel the freshness of the morning from the place. But what held their attention was not the meadow, beautiful though it was. Saphira flew through the clear blue sky, her form shining a treasure as she made towards the ground.

_Maybe we should stop underestimating these Riders because of their youth, Arya. Eragon himself was a case in point when he killed Galbatorix at just a score years of age_, said Firnen, feeling the painful anticipation in his Rider. Through the decades, he had felt Arya's pain at the tragic parting and faint hope at a sweeter future.

They felt presences trying to reach out to them, reaching across extremely vast distances.

_Saphira_, said Firnen with deep emotion as he felt once again the vibrant mind of Saphira Bjartskular.

_Eragon_ echoed Arya in a similar way to Firnen's as their emotions of longing and loss intertwined to become one, almost bringing tears to her eyes. Roran watched with a stony visage as he saw Saphira alight gracefully, not damaging the delicate meadow in the slightest. Her Rider jumped off the saddle, seeming to soar into the air effortlessly and landing as if he were a floating leaf.

_That was graceful, even for an elf_ remarked Firnen absently as he continued to take in the sight of Saphira with everything he had. Arya did not reply as she saw the Rider closest to her…felt the bond between them return in full force as the projection showed Eragon and Saphira closer, making it seem as if they were standing amongst them.

Eragon stood before them in the projection with his Dragon Saphira. Silver hair tumbled down to Eragon's shoulders, his face as angled and delicate as an elf. The ruggedness of his elven features, it seemed, were gone, stamped away by the passing of time. His lithe and tall body was robed in the finest white silk, and sheathed at his side was his legendary sword, _Brisingr_.

_Beautiful even by elven standards_, thought Roran with shock as he saw his drastically changed cousin. Saphira too had grown tremendously, half again the size of Firnen. Together they stood in the peaceful meadow and looked at their companions of years past with tranquil expressions.

Arya gasped inaudibly as she saw fully the face of Eragon Shadeslayer in a hundred years, and the eyes of Fiolr and Dathedr widened slightly.

For the once youthful but determined countenance of Eragon was now completely gone, and his face was…_Venerable,_ thought Arya. _I can see it in him…he really is different. The way he carries himself, it is as if he is nobility personified. The old Eragon is gone, what has happened to him? _She thought wonderingly as she moved to meet Eragon's eyes, and could not take her eyes off his.

His brown eyes were now gone and they shone a spectacular shade of indigo, literally glowing like embers in his eyes. _He looks every part like the legends of him in Alagaesia, _she thought with amusement.

Alien feelings surged up like a storm, but with an enormous effort she kept it from showing on her face. She felt Firnen's longing to just dive through the projection and join Saphira and Eragon, compounding and amplifying her own feelings enormously.

She began to understand the absolute respect the Riders bore for Eragon as she took in his form fully. In a way, he exuded as much authority as her and as much wisdom as Oromis. She found herself shaking off her ponderings as Ildarien spoke, once again reminding her of how the Mourning Sage was treated with the deepest regard.

"Ebrithil, I could not refuse the Elven Queen and her court their demands to see you. I am afraid it is as you predicted" said Ildarien, looking slightly apologetic.

Arya's breath caught in her throat as Eragon smiled a full smile and Saphira gave a greeting roar as she saw them…affection long forgotten reared in her breast like an unfurling Dragon. It was like drinking water after weeks of thirst, the sight of Eragon's face.

"It is not your fault, Ildarien. Please calm yourself" said Eragon, as he faced Arya finally. Words were not exchanged between them as they saw each other after so long a parting. Their eyes spoke everything, as even with the endless miles separating them they felt the weight of the past returning in a rush.

"Your Majesty" said Eragon in a musical voice, much like that of an Elf. She saw only a faint hint of sadness in his shining eyes as he addressed her. "It is good to see you after so long, my Queen. Long indeed, but duty is above all else. Duty is above everything…" said Eragon sadly, as Saphira looked at her with her brilliant eyes.

Arya closed her eyes momentarily as Eragon addressed her formally, with respect…but with no hint of their previous familiarity. _It is to be expected, Arya. He has become what he was always meant to be, as has Saphira…_

"Eragon-elda, _Atra esterni ono thelduin._ You have left Alagaesia too completely, leaving many hearts bereft" said Dathedr, inclining his head towards Eragon's image. Eragon scrutinized Dathedr with searching eyes, and then replied:

"Lord Dathedr, it is good to see you as well. You as well, Lord Fiolr. Saphira sends you her greetings" he said, causing Saphira to growl affirmatively. Here Eragon looked directly at Firnen, causing the Green Dragon to growl with surprise. An impossibly vast mind touched his own…so vast that his own draconic mind shuddered back from the immensity of its intellect.

_I am sorry, Firnen…you have my deepest apologies for keeping Saphira from you. Can you forgive me?_ echoed Eragon's voice in the vaults of Firnen's mind, and by extension in Arya's.

Arya froze as she felt Eragon's mind through Firnen's, reeling at its vastness and purity. She _knew_ the feel of Eragon's soul…and it was not this. This felt like the wisdom of centuries in a single man, the emotions and weariness of a thousand years borne by a single soul.

Arya felt Firnen submit instinctively to that mind, lowering his defences completely. She felt peace and tranquillity flow through her as Eragon made contact with her through her Dragon.

_Much has happened to me through the century, Firnen and Arya. Through your brief communications with my Riders, you know how our order has grown. Our presence was essential for us to reach this state…that and some other reasons. I can only humbly apologize for coming between the two of you, Firnen and Saphira, _echoed Eragon's gentle voice throughout their beings.

_Duty is above everything, Ebrithil. I do not begrudge you or Saphira yours _said Firnen respectfully, feeling the intense sorrow of Eragon's mind.

_Eragon…?_ Whispered Arya, shivering slightly as Eragon's shining presence enveloped her mind reassuringly, bringing them closer than ever. _I see we were no more than war acquaintances, Eragon. Did our time as friends mean so little to you? _ She asked in a sad voice.

_Duty calls, my Queen, and I have been performing mine as best as I can. That is all you need to know,_ he said to Arya, making her feel as if she had been slapped. _My responsibility to our Order comes before all else, even you_ he said firmly. Arya sensed in him not a hint of hesitation as he said this. Just as she had chosen duty above him, he had done the same over her.

Arya got up from her throne with cold anger visible on her face, something that caused everyone to step back.

"So you keep us in the dark? A century, Eragon?" she asked in a voice that revealed only the slightest amount of the anger she felt.

**Elf, do not berate my Rider for keeping his promises. He has many reasons for his actions, and most of them are beyond even your imagination, **came Saphira's thundering voice from across the seas, causing Arya to falter slightly and at the same time smile slightly with joy. Another dearest companion she had spoken to once again.

_Greetings, Saphira_ said Arya in an emotional voice. To Firnen, she whispered: _I will not let him disappear for another hundred years, Firnen, _she vowed with quiet certainty._ I must meet with him, even if it is for a short while._

Firnen answered with a supportive growl as Roran quietly remained in the background, hidden from Eragon's field of view. The elves noticed this, as did the riders but they respected his decision not to meet with his cousin. Such resentment was too hard to dissolve in a short while.

"Why have you asked me to meet with you, your Majesty? The Riders are with you not politically, but only to enjoy the magic of Du Weldenvarden once more after being apart from it for so long. You know all too well how the essence of your race is tied to the forest." he said calmly.

"I see" said Arya. "You are the leader of the Riders, Eragon, and yet you have ignored the elven nation, acting only through intermediaries. Do you wish for your order to fade into obscurity?"

….

Eragon chuckled softly as he saw Arya lose control, even if it was slightly. How things had changed between them with the passing of time…he shook his head. Seeing her face again was not as painful as he had thought it would be. He was able to reconcile their past now, give himself a sense of closure over Arya. Her beauty had only increased, if that was even possible…but no longer did he feel the soul stirring urge to be with her in every way.

"Your Majesty, I am afraid I really was aiming for that. But then, that is no longer relevant. Over the decades, my students and companions have convinced me to slowly let them re-enter Alagaesia. You can expect more contact from us as time goes on" he said, smiling as he felt the joy from Saphira as she saw Firnen again.

"As time goes on" murmured Arya.

He could see what was on their minds, even now. _It is only natural, beloved. They are your friends after all…_ came Saphira's soothing voice. Eragon replied with feeling, _Nay Saphira, to me they have but become memories and dreams drifting in the past. None of it even seems real anymore._

The flood of feelings from Saphira caused him to grimace, sadness and love flowing through their bond like a torrential river. _When will you heal, Eragon? Haven't you suffered enough for your sacrifice all those years ago?_

Eragon felt despair in Saphira's voice, it was one of the rare times he would have to console his unflappable Dragon. _I knew what I was giving up, Saphira. Even though you and the Eldunari warned me against it, I knew. At least my sacrifices those hundred years ago helps me to speak clearly with Arya! _He joked, but the answering growl from Saphira silenced him.

**DO NOT JOKE ABOUT IT!**, yelled Saphira angrily and Eragon could actually hear tears in her voice. Without hesitation, he joined his soul to hers and soothed her distress. Even today after a hundred years he paid his price…and his lovely Dragon paid it along with him. His attention was once more drawn to Arya as she spoke again:

"Even if that is so, Leader of the Shur'tugal, it is our wish that you return to Ellesmera so you can apprise us of your progress over these years" she said, looking into his eyes. Eragon saw a flicker of something very deep in her own eyes as Firnen remained silent.

"Perhaps you could come here so you could apprise me of yours" suggested Eragon lightly, causing Saphira to snort. Arya's eyes widened dramatically, and Eragon saw Ildarien's surprise as he held the spell.

"You are not above our queen, Shadeslayer. You owe us your autonomy" said Lord Fiolr, with a spark of anger in his eyes.

_Peace, Ildarien_ said Eragon as he saw Ildarien's anger through the projection._ Peace, all. We are Riders, and it does not behove us to lose control in front of royalty. Remember what I taught you._

He watched as Ildarien's expression calmed down along with the others'. He turned to face Arya with a calm expression, feeling Saphira's disdain at Fiolr.

"Lord Fiolr is right, we do owe you our autonomy. But are you not a part of our Order, Arya?" he asked, using her name for the first time. "Or did you give that up as well, for duty's sake of course? You have made little effort to be with your kin"

Arya closed her eyes, and whispered: "I am a Queen of the Elves. I was an elf before a Rider, and I chose long ago to lead my people. Firnen stands with me on this. Do not haunt me with spectres of old decisions, Eragon" she said in a cold voice. Dathedr looked at her with concern while Fiolr was looking at something beyond his view in the Hall.

He saw Arya lift her head up suddenly, and look at Dathedr with an expressionless face and shake her head. He continued relentlessly, trying to make Arya understand the consequences of her choices. He did not want Saphira to suffer, or Firnen.

"Our dragons need not pay the price for human issues, Arya. We are equal partners, Dragon and Riders. My Saphira was deprived of her mate because of the actions of "two-legs" as she would put it…I will not allow that to happen anymore. Riders should not bring misery to their Dragons by choice, it is reprehensible!" he said forcefully, and this time his eyes could pick up Arya's flinch.

….

Arya felt Eragon's words strike her like physical blows, but felt nothing from her Dragon. Eragon had struck her weakest spot, Firnen. And the hurt that filled her at his words was enormous. Collecting herself visibly, she beckoned with her mind to Roran who stood uncertainly.

Barristan looked with wide eyes at what the queen was doing, bringing an irate Roran Stronghammer into this affair. Ebrithil was only now beginning to find peace and she was going to snap it in half because of her capricious desires! He could feel Cirnathor's alarm as Roran walked towards Ildarien's projection.

_Release the spell, Ildarien _he said urgently, but felt hopelessness and frustration in his fellow Rider.

_Barristan, I only initiated the spell. Ebrithil is holding it now, and I hope you are not suggesting for me to wrest the spell from him_?

Barristan slumped at Ildarien's words…he was right, they could do nothing. They watched as the Elf Queen stared hard at Eragon, and ask: "Come back, Eragon. We need you to come back."

Shock ran through them as they felt the pure longing in her voice. Even the faces of the Elf lords were a study in surprise and Roran had paused, collecting his thoughts.

"I cannot, Arya. My duty is to my Riders, and by your own admission and actions you cannot be with us for the foreseeable future. I am sorry" said Eragon, and Barristan heard the note of genuine regret in his voice.

"Then will you at least come for your cousin, Kingslayer?" asked Arya, deeply hurt and confused by Eragon's behaviour. Once upon a time, they would have braved oceans and armies to be at each other's side. Crippling loss ran through her as she realized things had changed between them on a level deeper than even she could perceive.

Firnen's grief over lost time joining with hers almost made her weep.

"Roran is dead, Arya" said Eragon mournfully. Arya shook her head, and at last Roran presented himself to his long absent cousin. Barristan could literally feel the shock of his master joined with Saphira, almost paralyzing him and the others.

The meadow shook as Saphira roared angrily, and Eragon stared with grief struck eyes. Arya felt disgusted at using the situation so, but what was she to do? She could not let him leave again, not now. Not after all these years.

"Cousin" said Roran stiffly, looking at Eragon with blank eyes. Arya felt pain herself as pain ran through Eragon's eyes. Once they had called themselves brothers, Roran and Eragon. And they were that back in the war. Her, Roran, Eragon and Saphira had shared bonds impossible for anyone except Firnen to even understand remotely.

_How is this possible?,_ echoed Eragon's voice through their heads with stunning force. Roran sunk down to his knees at that terrible voice, but the Elven lords staved it off as did Arya.

"How is this possible, Arya? After all this time my cousin was alive, and you did not care to mention it in our communications?" said Eragon with both mind and voice, his words augmented with enormous mental strength.

"Because I did not _want _to speak with you, Eragon!" shouted Roran with deep bitterness and anger. "Not after your abandonment of us. You weren't there for us, not for a single thing! You could have at least contacted us through scrying, but no, Eragon Kingslayer did not feel like contacting his lowly cousin!"

Saphira roared in anger at this, overcoming her shock admirably. **DO NOT SLIGHT MY RIDER SO, HUMANS AND ELVES! IF YOU KNEW WHAT HE HAD TO GIVE UP TO ENSURE OUR SURVIVAL, YOU WOULD SHAKE WITH FEAR!**

This time even the elf lords and Arya flinched at the raw anger of Saphira. Roran was frozen with shock as Saphira directed her anger at him for the first time, anger enough to kill.

But Eragon had knelt down on the ground, looking listlessly downwards. His eyes had lost all emotion and he seemed to be shivering with an unknown symptom. Then he threw his head back, and began to convulse. Saphira nudged him urgently with her snout, having no effect whatsoever.

"ERAGON!" shouted Arya, reaching with a single hand as if to touch him through the projection, but Saphira's voice echoed through their heads as Eragon convulsed continuously in absolute agony, holding his head tightly.

_What has happened to him_, whispered Firnen's horrified voice as a single tear streamed down Arya's flawless face. Roran looked at Eragon shouting in agony, his face constricting with horror. And then he fled.

Arya watched numbly as nine flashes of light occurred in the meadows, and nine Elves she recognized materialized.

"Who did this?" questioned Invida's softly dangerous voice as she stared at the Elf Queen and the lords with no fear on her face. Blodhgarm joined Invida and murmured, "Eragon-elda did fear this possibility, Invida. We are prepared for it." he said calmly.

"What has happened to Eragon?" questioned Arya urgently, with a tinge of her true desperation. "Something we cannot explain now, Arya Drottningu. I need to make him rest" he said, and Eragon limply sank to the ground with Saphira towering over him.

_LAETRI._

The call whispered through their minds, laden with longing. Arya's confusion increased as she heard Eragon's voice call out to the strongest female spell caster among his original guard, and watched with a strange burning in her heart as the heart-stoppingly beautiful female elf rushed to Eragon's side and lifted him up effortlessly. Saphira followed Laetri as she bore Eragon rapidly out of their view area, speaking no parting words.

As Blodhgarm raised a hand in farewell and dissolved the projection, Arya rose and spoke with resolve to Ildarien.

"I am coming to your city. I cannot sit and rule idly as he suffers. Tell the council of our departure" she said with resolve in her voice, walking briskly towards the exit.

"There is no need, your Majesty" came Nuada's soft voice causing Arya to halt. "Blodhgarm-elda informed me that Ebrithil is being brought to Alagaesia, that it was the only way for him. I hope he will forgive us when he wakes, for we will be breaking his greatest wish"

…

Laetri stood over Eragon's still breathing form, surrounded by six of the wisest and greatest Eldunari. Her beautiful silver hair flowed down to her waist, and her flawless skin shone with the sheen of magic. She was a vision in perfection, the elf named after the first Shadeslayer.

A lone tear slid down her cheek as she saw Eragon Kingslayer once more in the grip of his sacrifice. The Nine had long debated on this possibility, on what to do if this situation were to arise. Eragon had spent decades trying to overcome the consequences of his sacrifice, and had grown tremendously while doing so.

But they had never thought Roran Stronghammer would be worthy enough to be blessed by the Menoa tree. Eragon had flatly refused to increase the lifespan of his cousin, sincerely believing that human life was not meant to be tampered with. Then for many years he was recovering, and was unable to help himself let alone Roran.

"How much longer will you suffer, Eragon-elda?" she asked the empty hall softly, as she listened in her mind to the conversation of the Nine. Blodhgarm was trying to convince the others to let only her and Eragon leave with their Dragons to Alagaesia, trying to honour the wishes of their master.

Eragon had always held the safety of _Aiedail_ above everything, that and the growth of their Order. The Nine were the closest to Eragon, so all the younger Riders and apprentices naturally deferred to them.

Laetri only paid half mind as she heard of the conversation the others were holding in solemn voices, making their points calmly. But to her it was of no consequence, for regardless of who came with her she would fly to Ellesmera with Eragon.

**And me. This should never have happened, Laetri. He was only just coming back to normalcy…I miss him the way he was before that accursed day those years ago, **sniffled Saphira. Laetri could find nothing to say, for she had truly liked the Eragon she had first seen, back when Islanzadi had sent her with the others to protect him.

_Eragon foresaw this when he sent Ildarien and the others to Ellesmera,_ came Blodhgarm's voice. _But he left us no instructions on what to do if it happened. But I do know that it was his wish to keep the city safe with everything we can spare. I can perform the point transportation spell with your succour, and we can send Laetri and Eragon directly to Ellesmera's doorstep._

_But…._continued the arguments. Laetri shook her head, and concentrated on holding Eragon's mind together. The others would no doubt reach a decision soon enough. But for now Eragon was suffering, and she could hardly bear it. She was once just like her kin, cold and controlled.

But now….

_ENOUGH! _roared a voice in all the minds of the nine, and in that of Saphira's. It seemed that the Eldunari had had enough of their dithering and had decided to intervene.

_That is enough, Blodhgarm. Do not bicker amongst yourselves while Laetri keeps her vigil over Eragon. This situation has to be fixed soon. We cannot have the leader of our order vulnerable in any way!_

_Yes, Umaroth-Elda_, said the Nine and Saphira with respect. Umaroth continued calmly, and they felt the minds of hundreds of Eldunari in consensus with his:

_Dragon kind owes everything to Eragon Kingslayer, and we cannot lose him. The Eldunarya are of the opinion that Laetri leave with Eragon and the remaining eight guards and run our city as Eragon would. You are the only ones who can keep the illusion of smooth functioning in the Order_, said Umaroth decisively.

_Take him to the Menoa tree, Laetri_ said Glaedr's rumbling voice. _He might find healing of a temporary kind with her, but it is certain that what ails him cannot be repaired here in Aiedail, not when this city was the site of his ailment. In Alagaesia alone will he find solace._

_As you wish, elders,_ they conceded to the wishes of the most venerable dragons of them all. _We send you tonight, Laetri. Her Majesty is informed of Eragon-elda's arrival, and will have opened the wards. Be safe, and protect our leader as you always have. He will remain our only hope for many centuries,_ said Blodhgarm.

Laetri bowed her head in assent, as she stroked Eragon's silver hair slowly. She would make a second sacrifice to keep Eragon safe, she would sacrifice anything to keep him safe. That was what he had done for them, and had earned their deepest respect and gratitude.

_I will._

…..

Dwarven sayings about how the rock changes were true, reflected Arya as she stood beneath the dusty pines of Du Weldenvarden. She stood with Gilderien the wise, Prince of House Miolandra and wielder of the white flame of Vandil.

Ildarien, Nuada, Yaela, Leya, and Barristan stood behind her with their Dragons. Her heart still soared at seeing so many Riders together, made her heart thrum.

_We have yet to see Aiedail,_ said Firnen with amusement as he squinted lazily at Cirnathor, with whom he was developing a steady friendship.

_And we will, soon_, promised Arya to herself and Firnen. Once Eragon was healed, she would visit the result of his effort, the home of the Riders.

Tamerlein was sheathed at her waist, and she wore the tunic and leggings she had so favoured during her days as Ambassador to the Varden. Ceremony still grated on her, as did ceremonial clothes. Her ethereally lovely face was set in a sombre expression not showing the utter turmoil she felt within.

_Domiel's rider feels a disturbance, Arya. It appears they are arriving,_ said Firnen. Without warning, a blast of green light before them lit the night forest for miles before it cleared to reveal four figures.

A huge golden Dragon, not of Firnen's size but close enough stood impassively and upon it sat Laetri. But the next Dragon was truly awe-inspiring, a Dragon not seen in Alagaesia for far too long.

Arya could hardly believe how much Saphira had grown…she was much larger than Firnen. Her mind felt truly ancient and vast as she inspected the scene before her calmly.

"Laetri svit-kona", murmured Ildarien as he and the other Riders stepped forward and were held in place by some unknown force. Gilderien the wise had raised his hand and was looking at the new arrivals with scrutinizing eyes. With unbelievable grace, he appeared next to Eragon's prone body held in Laetri's arms.

Arya rushed towards Eragon, shelving decorum aside. _What is wrong with him, Gilderien-elda?_ She whispered mentally to the ancient elven prince who had guarded Ellesmera through the uncounted centuries. Gilderien the Wise knelt with Laetri as she slowly laid Eragon on the ground.

They waited silently as Gilderien placed two fingers upon Eragon's forehead, and whispered words of power. After a peculiar rushing noise, he stood gracefully and began to fade out of sight. His soothing voice whispered gently into their minds:

_A very great Rider. No other is his equal in terms of loyalty and sacrifice…no other is his equal in terms of love and commitment. Guard him well, my brethren. His like are rarer than the Dragons of white._

"What can be done to alleviate his condition?" asked Arya urgently. But Laetri stepped forth, and picked Eragon up gently. She ran up Saphira's side like the light-footed elf she was, and looked at her Dragon:

_Sahloknir, can you take your brethren and house yourselves in the quarters provided for us? Eragon needs me more than ever now._

Arya watched as the Golden Dragon looked at Eragon with fond eyes, and nudged him once with his snout. _Do not aggravate his condition any more, Elf Queen, _his baritone voice resonated in her head. She sent feelings of calm to Firnen as she saw her Dragon bare his fangs at Laetri's Dragon.

_I will not, Dragon. For he is more precious to my race than you could possibly imagine._

…..

Arya stood in Eragon's tree, observing the seven flying Dragons through the transparent roof. She herself had never seen so many Dragons grace the skies of Ellesmera, and her happiness at this sight was no small thing. Even if tempered by Eragon's situation, seeing Firnen join his brethren and Saphira at last was a heart-warming sight for her.

Things were finally getting better for Alagaesia, for the Riders had finally set foot again upon their homeland. And where the Riders went, prosperity and happiness followed.

She turned slowly to see another sight she thought she would never be part of. The Five Riders and Laetri stood around their softly breathing prone form of their master, and she could feel the edges of their mental conversation amongst themselves and their dragons.

_How is he, Arya?_ came the voice of Firnen, causing Arya to focus fully upon Eragon's form. She slowly extended a tendril of thought towards his mind just to feel his current state, but suddenly felt very powerful barriers slam shut and cut her access to him completely. They were so powerful and numerous that she could not even sense his presence, knowing that he was alive only by his breathing.

"Please refrain from doing that, your Majesty" said Laetri softly, and Arya realized that all the present Riders and their Dragons were defending Eragon's mind actively. She retracted her mental probe immediately, and looked at the Riders with a slight concern showing on her face, hiding most of it under the elven mask of coldness.

"What ails him?" she asked. _Yes, Tell us Laetri Shur'tugal. We would like to know what ails the leader of our order_, came Firnen's firm voice and Arya felt all the power of the five riders and Dragons in Laetri as she wove spells of protection and stasis over Eragon. She felt the minds and strengths of all the riders in Laetri as she faced her.

"I would like our story to be told in council, your Majesty. Understand that we will be covering the broadest facts only. The details we cannot reveal without his permission" she said as she looked tenderly at Eragon.

"So be it" said Arya, walking gracefully down the steps and out of the massive tree. They would hear of the fruits of their efforts tonight, and when Eragon woke she would make him understand the necessity of leaving Riders in Alagaesia as well.

_Oh, Arya _sighed Firnen. Arya felt him drifting peacefully alongside Sahloknir and Domiel, watching Cirnathor's acrobatics. _You cannot make him do anything, my dear one. He is beyond elven dominion now, as is Saphira. The best you can hope for is to convince him with your reasoning._

_Do not treat him like a young human boy anymore, Arya. From what Sahloknir showed me, I can only conclude that he has become wise as Oromis, and strong as well. Treat him like you would treat Vrael himself._

Arya thought on Firnen's advice for a long time, absently acknowledging the courtesies her people offered her as she walked among them. He had changed enough to be considered on par with Vrael?

_May I watch those memories?_ She requested Firnen, but felt his disapproval on the other end. _It is a thing between Dragons, Arya. And you will know soon enough when you hold council tonight, I suppose._

Arya nodded, feeling a change coming over the land and the forest. The Riders' presence always meant great change; good or evil was left to fate.

….


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"Why the Menoa tree?" questioned Dathedr politely, as the Elven council stared with pride and dignity at Yaela. The council had convened the very night Eragon had returned to gather the happenings of the past years. Not to mention that they wanted to know what it was that crippled the mightiest Rider that lived, something that made even the Gilderien the Wise respect him.

Yaela was one of the Twelve original guardians of Eragon from the war who had departed the shores of Alagaesia a hundred years ago and she was here to answer the questions of the Elven court. An accomplished warrior, she stood proudly with her Dragon as she answered Dathedr:

"It is because she who became the Menoa tree can understand the loss Eragon-elda feels, and may sympathise enough to restore him temporarily, Dathedr-vor" she said. "And also because it is Glaedr-elda's wisdom. It is not our place to question the advice of the ancients"

"It certainly is not" murmured Dathedr, as the Elves remained silent and contemplating. Arya spoke, her voice sure and commanding:

"A tale such as this is not given out with a chaotic retelling. Tell us now the full tale, Yaela, beginning from the day Eragon left us with the Nine of you, the Eldunari and the eggs"

"As you wish" said Yaela, her distant eyes remaining focused upon the knotted throne. Arya could see her gathering memories of years past, back to the end of the war when Galbatorix was struck down by Eragon and freedom was upon Alagaesia like a sudden burst of dawn.

Her own confusion and angst during those years still haunted her. Islanzadi was killed, and much of her kind lay dead. Her only hope then was her little green Dragon, Firnen, the one who pulled her out of the depths of depression. The one who gave her the strength to perform her duty.

_Thank you, Arya. You have been a great Rider for me, _said Firnen with love and gratitude flowing across the bond. _But she is about to speak now._

"We sailed for months…several months, maybe even a year. I do not know exactly how long we sailed or how much, but I do know that we were slowly losing hope. Food and water we could obtain through the aid of our magic, and companionship we had amongst ourselves. But the endless expanse of the sea pressed down upon us like nothing else, forcing us into one despair after another" said Yaela, remembering those years with a faraway grief.

"We searched far and wide with our minds, as did Eragon. But it was to no avail even with the strength of the Eldunari augmenting his, and ours. Only the wisdom and counsel of the Eldest Hearts held us up made us look toward the light. Our hopes of finding a new land were flagging for we had sailed for what seemed to us an eternity" she said, but now she smiled deeply.

"But then, it happened" she said softly. "There came a fourth free Rider into existence, and a fifth. For me and Laetri were directed by Umaroth-elda to visit the eggs that were stored in a heavily warded room, and we went. The moment we entered, we heard a cracking noise and we saw…our Dragons" she whispered with reverence.

"We knew their names the moment we saw them, and we named them: Fundor was mine, and Sahloknir was Laetri's. We were in such joy then!" she exclaimed, and Arya could _feel _the hope created by such an event. "They were so little back then" she said, adoringly stroking Fundor's head as he leaned into her touch.

"We became Riders, me and Laetri. Eragon was beside himself with joy, your Majesty" she recalled. "He even forgot for a time what he had left behind in Alagaesia, and threw himself into nurturing the first Riders under his tutelage. We learned for three months on sea from the Eldunari, and we were content. I remember us Nine talking about how we were content just sailing, learning with and from our Leader and the Eldunari."

"You understand I am leaving much from this narrative" she continued, gazing at the court. "It would take me too long a time to recount everything that happened in the past century"

Arya, who was entranced by the story, just motioned for her to continue. The weakness of the Elves for tale and song was legendary and this tale was especially close to their hearts as they had lived its beginning themselves.

"It was then that Eragon-elda adapted the point transportation spell to send people in a flash to distant locations. It had been a terrible year and a half for us at sea, though the hatching of Fundor and Sahloknir bolstered our hope to as much as it was before" spoke Yaela softly.

"And then he brought us the final hope. We had not even thought of his idea, the rigidity of the Elven mind is truly frustrating. But" she said, "The human mind is not. It can adapt beautifully and Eragon's unnatural instinct with magic saved us all, or so we thought. So for weeks we prepared; the ten of us and the Eldunari. We structured a spell such that it would take us to a landmass ahead of us, where we could moor and settle for some short while. For even our Elven patience had abated for the want of forests"

"I never thought Eragon could _modify_ a spell known to elvenkind for centuries" murmured Arya in surprise. _He is the crown Jewel of our Order, Elf _resonated the deep rumbling voice of Fundor in Arya's mind.

"One night we gathered and pooled our magic together, sending it into Eragon who began to weave the spell. Umaroth-elda had deemed the Eldunari unable to participate, as they were gathering energy still after the war"

"But our strength was thought to be enough. Eragon began to gather our magics and was intoning our spell when it happened."

Here pure and utter grief flashed for a moment on Yaela's face before she hid it.

"Flashing lights appeared everywhere around our ship as the storm continued unabated. Eragon was too absorbed in his spell and paid no attention, and Saphira was too busy pouring energy into him as were we all. But me and Laetri, our Dragons were still young and could not pour energy into the spell yet."

"I saw them manifesting through my Fundor's mind, and I knew Laetri saw them through Sahloknir's. They are too different from Alagaesian races and their powers are beyond our understanding. I cannot fathom why they chose to appear before us then…but appear they did"

"Spirits?" whispered Arya in horror. "You were intercepted by _Spirits_?" she asked in a whisper. The court of elves looked horror struck at this; they knew how dangerous those entities could be.

"Yes" whispered Yaela. "Yes. They were spirits who were once part of Durza, and they were changed forever by their occupation of the Shade. It seemed they were attracted by Eragon's magic and recognized it as something familiar."

The court was completely silent at this. No one could ever have anticipated this turn of events after the war…no one. Arya listened in stunned silence as Yaela continued her tale.

"But Sahloknir was young" she said in a low voice. "He was barely a month old, and did not understand fully. The alien nature of Spirit force frightened him, and his magic lashed out at the surrounding Spirits. That angered them…Oh, did it anger them"

Yaela's memories began to transmit themselves to the court and they willingly opened their minds to it. Arya flinched as she felt through the memories the anger and bloodlust of the spirits, it was like being once more in Durza's dark tormenting presence.

"There was a great flash of white light" said Yaela listlessly. "It must have illuminated the entire horizon for a moment…but when it faded, he was gone. Sahloknir was gone along with the spirits and we were left alone in the storm without him."

The court gasped in horror, and Arya felt overwhelming pity for the golden Dragon and Eragon's party. _They have endured much_, whispered Firnen's sad voice in her mind and she could not help but feel this was only the beginning of Eragon's troubles.

"I remember Laetri's wails as she tried to throw herself off the ship to find her little Dragon" she murmured as if feeling the pain of her companion after all these years. "It tore at us to see her in the grip of such suffering. We had been like siblings for many centuries, and Laetri's loss rent our hearts asunder"

Tears slid down the eyes of all the Elves in the court, and one slid down Arya's right cheek at the memories Yaela was showing them all. Laetri's suffering was heart-breaking in its sadness.

"She was a newly bonded Rider, and even her centuries of experience did not stop her from being incapacitated with grief. I remember as she knelt in front of us and that stormy night and begged us to get Sahloknir back for her, during her few moments of coherence. For she knew not if her Dragon were dead or alive. His presence had been erased in her mind by the Spirits, you see"

They drew their breath as one at this. It was unimaginably painful, what had happened to Laetri. No Rider deserved that kind of uncertain separation.

"As Eragon heard Laetri beg for help from her very soul he did something we should have anticipated from him. He gathered energy with the Eldunari's consent…and he sent us away with his new spell."

_That is just like him, Firnen, _said Arya as she heard the tragic tale. If she knew this were to happen she would never have let him leave Alagaesia. As it was, she would not let him leave again till he was _completely_ healed. No matter what had changed between them their friendship demanded that much.

"He invoked _Wyrda_, before casting his spell. He let the transportation spell be guided by fate itself…he sent us all away to some unknown location and placed us in the hands of fate. He sent us _all,_ Eldunari, eggs and even Saphira. The last we heard was him promising Laetri in the ancient language that he was going to get Sahloknir back upon his word as Rider."

Yaela sighed. "Then we found ourselves on our Island, the Island where we would build Aiedail later. Laetri was insane with fear and loss, and our Leader had gone on a solo mission to retrieve Sahloknir. Saphira too was nearly incapacitated with grief, but she somehow managed to overcome her grief and act in her Rider's stead."

"How could he possibly be foolish enough to think that he could take on several _Spirits_ at once" demanded Fiolr in outrage. Yaela shrugged off the question and continued, but Arya knew.

Eragon had the one thing no one else had, an extremely powerful tool. He had _The Word._ A name of incredible power, the true name of true names that identified the essence of the ancient language itself.

"We spent a year on that Island, only erecting a secret warded cell to store the Eldunari. Laetri was steadily dropping into insanity without her Dragon, and the rest of our hearts were heavy."

"How did you manage to survive?" asked Arya with utmost sadness. Yaela shrugged again and said the one word Arya was beginning to tire of.

"Duty drove us" she said shortly, as if she wished not to go into details.

"But he returned, Eragon did. After a year, he returned to us in a flash of Indigo light and his hair had turned burnished silver in colour. He was _not _a shade" she said firmly as many began to come to that conclusion.

"But something had happened to him during his absence from us. He was _tormented_ beyond words, his mind was shattered to pieces…you cannot imagine the grief Saphira felt" she said softly. "You cannot. The spirits had broken something within him…something precious. But he held out Sahloknir, who had not grown at all in his year's absence. In his eyes we saw…near madness and loss. Both Sahloknir and he were broken. So was Laetri. Our order was finished, and I was the only Rider who was…somewhat whole"

"Madness" she said again, looking around at the deeply sorrowful faces of the court. "But it was not the end. The spirits followed us there as well and they had come for Sahloknir whom they wanted for some unknown reason. What happened next, I will have to show you."

As they felt Yaela's mind touch upon them once more, they opened themselves completely to her memory flow. Arya sat disbelievingly on the knotted throne…understanding what it meant when Gilderien-elda called Eragon a great Rider. Their sadness as they spoke of Eragon's sacrifices.

She gave into Firnen's urgings to watch Yaela's memories as the elf projected it to the entire court.

_A very large empty Isle, and the night sky above them in all its vastness shining with a million stars. The waves washed silently over the beach in which the Nine resided with the returned Eragon. They flinched once more as they saw Eragon…he was changed inhumanly. The change was unnaturally evil. Spirits' desires were beyond comprehension as was their power. _

_Suddenly, the entire campsite was surrounded once more by a wall of multicolored flashing lights and Eragon screamed with Laetri in a sound of indescribable agony. The Elves fell like leaves in the wake of the Spirits' assault, only able to watch helplessly as the entities converged upon Eragon and Laetri. Sahloknir gave a heart wrenching wail as they approached, and deep sorrow filled their hearts as they saw Laetri wrap her arms around Sahloknir and close her eyes as if accepting their fate._

_Eragon shouted a spell, and the spirits were kept at bay with a wall of unknown force. But they were steadily forcing themselves in, burrowing around Eragon's force barrier so fast that they looked like a wall of light._

_Arya openly cried as Eragon gathered some semblance of coherence from his shattered mind, and wept for mercy from the Spirits, begging them to take him instead of the young Dragon and Rider. Saphira's sorrow cut them all like the blades of Brisingr and Zar'roc. _

_But then they felt a staggering mind-force speak to the Riders, and knew that these were the Eldunari gathered by Eragon._

_ERAGON, WHAT WILL YOU GIVE UP TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THE RIDERS? Roared the voices of hundreds of Eldunari together. Eragon shook his head, and seemed to gain a little more coherence as he replied in a faint voice as the Spirits tried to breach his spell, the one thing that kept them away. It looked like they would break it in a matter of seconds._

**_ANYTHING, _**said Eragon as he funnelled the energies of the Eldunari into stopping the spirits. It was not enough. **_ANYTHING TO SAVE MY PEOPLE._**

_EVEN YOUR LOVE FOR ARYA? came the terrible voice of the gathered Eldunari. ANSWER QUICKLY, ERAGON. WE HAVE NOT ENOUGH MAGIC TO DRIVE OFF THESE SPIRITS. WILL YOU GIVE UP YOUR LOVE FOR ARYA?_

_They saw as Eragon's face twisted in indescribable agony at the notion as tears ran down his face once more. They heard some Eldunari's voice clamouring against the idea along with Saphira who roared in denial and anger._

**_You ask me to tear out my own soul, to mutilate my very being? That is what you ask, for my love for Arya is one of the focal points of my true name. You wish me to tear my soul?_**

_The boundless regret of the Eldunari washed over them, making them flinch. But they were relentless in their question._

_WILL YOU DO IT? UTTER YOUR TRUE NAME AND USE THAT SACRIFICE TO FUEL OUR SPELL? asked the Collective voice of the Eldunari instantly. Eragon's face grew numb and dead, as if something else shattered. This time it was his soul itself that was mutilated as he raised his hands to incant the spell taught to him by the Eldunarya. He began to shiver as he invoked his true name._

_The wall of magic keeping the spirits out broke, and the Spirits descended upon Eragon in a deluge of unstoppable light. Laetri screamed and hugged Eragon tightly with a terrified Sahloknir between them as he raised his hands to the dark heavens and incanted his spell._

_"__**DEYJA MANIN, ETHGRI HUGIN!"**_

_An incredible wave of pure magic blasted from Eragon and hurled the Spirits far into the sky, until they became but points of light like the stars. The force holding the elves in place disappeared and the eight ran forward rapidly and knelt before the Leader of the riders who stood still as Laetri clung on to him desperately like a life line. _

_As they gently separated the two, Blodhgarm hissed in surprise as he saw a Sahloknir who looked completely healed, both in mind and body. They saw Laetri looking as if she were on the road to recovery, the madness and loss leaving her eyes slowly._

_But Eragon did not move. When he turned to face them, Yaela saw in his eyes that his soul was completely unmade. His torment was probably inconceivable as his soul was rent asunder to save them. He would suffer beyond their imagining for a long, long time._

_To save them? His soul?_

_Fundor let out a keening sound, mourning the sacrifice Eragon Kingslayer had made for them. As one, the Nine elves sank to their knees as the enormity of Eragon's actions burned themselves deep in their soul. As one, they pledged themselves in the ancient language to Eragon as his companions, pledged him and him alone their eternal loyalty and resolve to make him whole._

_For not in a hundred generations could the Riders repay their debt to the Kingslayer. For this and for killing Galbatorix, their Order owed Eragon everything._

_AS DOES DRAGONKIND,_ _came Umaroth's voice filled with infinite regret_.

_Under the night sky of what would be the city of Aiedail, the Riders were saved for the second time by Eragon Kingslayer. As Blodhgarm gathered up Eragon in his arms with reverence, the other eight gathered up behind him._

"That is what happened" said Yaela in a low voice, seeing there wasn't a dry eye in the famed court of the Elves. "For a hundred years now, he has lived in pain beyond anything physical or mental. Every day he lives is a testament to his sacrifice for us. So do not judge him so easily, my brethren" she said quietly, and turned to leave.

Arya did not stop her, instead rising and walking away towards her quarters causing the court to disperse. Firnen was absolutely silent as he went over what they had seen, and gave his rider the privacy she craved.

Without a pause, she increased her walk to a run and reached her quarters in a matter of minutes. Barring the door with a powerful spell of sealing, and barring even Firnen from her mind…she sank down to the floor with a tortured expression, shedding silent tears.

…

_Ellesmera's dawn has been a sight we have not seen for far too long,_ sighed Laetri with satisfaction as she woke up from the bed she had made up next to Eragon's. The beautiful sunlight shone down on the city and the pleasant morning chill permeated the entire city causing her to shiver in pleasure.

_He is gone somewhere,_ she thought with a slight panic. _Where has he gone, Sahloknir?_ She asked her Dragon.

_You will find him in the Elven training grounds, Laetri. Did you know Yaela told the Queen and her court what happened to us...well, at least a portion of it? _asked Sahloknir. Laetri frowned slightly, but her expression cleared after a few moments.

It was inevitable, she thought as she stared up through the vast transparent roof at the vast blue sky with Dragons drifting in them gracefully. The door opened slightly and she turned her head to find the Queen slowly let herself in.

"Laetri?" she asked curiously, hiding her true feelings behind her mask she had so perfected over the centuries. Laetri set off the oddest feelings in her, the strangest fires in her heart. A defeated feeling she was not accustomed to at all.

_How are you, Arya? Has the storm passed?_ Said Firnen's cautious and concerned voice. _It will never pass, Firnen,_ she said sadly as she looked inquisitively at Laetri.

"Your Majesty?" said Laetri with surprise as she got up hurriedly and dressed herself with a single spell. Arya slightly chuckled at the discomfiture of the woman, for Laetri was much older than herself and much more experienced.

"Can I…can I ask you where Eragon is?" she asked in a rare show of vulnerability. Laetri sighed as she picked up her sword and belted it on her slender waist.

"He is awake and in the training grounds, your Majesty. My pleas to the Menoa tree, along with those of Brightscales' helped him it seems. The tree understands loss better than any of us in the waking world" she said as she faced the exit.

"Would you care to accompany me, Your Majesty? I am going to Eragon as well" invited Laetri. An unreadable expression flickered on Arya's face as she accepted the offer. Within minutes, they had descended the huge tree tower and were on the way to the training grounds.

"I hear that you now know our story, Majesty?" inquired Laetri politely of Arya as they walked past the lovely trees and parks of Ellesmera. Laetri could see sorrow in every line of the Queen as she inclined her head towards her.

"I did, Laetri svit-kona. Eragon has given up much for your sake" said Arya, feeling pain cut her heart into pieces at the thought of just what he gave up. Laetri smiled a very sad smile as she looked at Arya and said.

"For _our_ sake, Arya, for you are part of our Order as well no matter what he says or you say" she said with certainty. "Even magic cannot break certain bonds"

"Or can it?" whispered Arya, allowing her emotion to show on her face. Laetri's face showed deep compassion as she understood what the young queen must be going through after Yaela's revelation. But she remained silent, allowing her to speak.

"At the end of the war when we parted…we knew each other's true names" said Arya. "I said his name yesterday night…and I felt no stirring of magic. His name has changed, I fear…he was right. He did love me then, but I brushed it off as an ephemeral human fascination"

Laetri spoke calmly. "It was war, Arya Drottningu. You did the right thing by avoiding distraction during its course". Arya's eyes widened and picked up what Laetri was implying.

"Perhaps I should have become closer to him _after_ the war. But he was but a close friend to me at best, a mere score years in age compared to my hundred…when I learned of the love he had for me through his name, it only heightened my fears. What if I lost him like Linnea did, lost him to fickle human desires? And it had been too short a while since Faolin's death. How could I willingly put myself in the arms of another, forgetting him?"

Arya wiped a tear from her eye, "So I let him leave, burying myself in what I thought was duty. Yesterday, I saw the true meaning of duty in Yaela's memories…and I am deeply ashamed to be so presumptuous"

Laetri laid a hand over Arya's arm, the two extraordinary elven women facing each other solemnly. "He is no longer the Eragon you remember, your Majesty, not even close. I have seen Vrael and spoken with him. I have even learned at his feet when he came occasionally to Ellesmera…I can honestly say Eragon is become much like Vrael"

Arya nodded firmly, and accompanied Laetri swiftly to the training grounds. It was time to speak with Eragon Kingslayer at long last. Shelving the crushing regret and guilt she felt over Eragon's situation she strode calmly towards him.

As the two women walked down the winding and picturesque paths of Ellesmera, Arya began to draw parallels between herself and Laetri. She could not help but do so, for the similarities were many. She could hear Firnen listening to her thoughts with a kind of wry amusement.

Firstly, She and Laetri had both gone through life and death with Eragon. Both of them were Riders after him, both of them were great warriors. Firnen's amusement increased at this, but she knew herself and her accomplishments.

_Both I and Sahloknir are male Dragons_, said Firnen joining in her thoughts. Arya gave the equivalent of a mental nod at this, continuing to list the similarities.

Laetri too had undergone captivity under Galbatorix's minions just like she had. Both of them were princesses of Ellesmera.

_She is?_ Came Firnen's surprised thoughts. Arya affirmed the thoughts, surprised herself with just how similar they were.

_Yes her mother was the Queen Dellanir, predecessor of my father, _she said to her Dragon, noting his surprise at the fact. It was almost as if she and Laetri were the same people shifted in time. Before she could come up with any more similarities, Laetri spoke:

"Your Majesty, you seem to be deep in thought"

"I am indeed deep in thought" said Arya with some amusement. Then her face grew serious as she questioned, "What happened to Eragon yesterday? His convulsions were almost like Oromis' were" she said sadly. Over a century had passed since Oromis' death and she still felt great sadness at their passing.

"A most apt observation, your Majesty" said Laetri as they neared the training area of the elves. As it came into sight, they saw no Elves sparring as they usually did. Instead they had gathered in a circle around someone or something, looking admiringly at something or someone they had encircled.

Arya watched as a fond expression crossed Laetri's face. "Ever the teacher", she said and approached with Arya. The elves bowed as their Queen approached and parted to reveal Eragon and his five students with more elves joining them progressively.

Eragon's long silver hair rippled smoothly in the wind as he flowed through the _Rimgar _with incredible flexibility. But it was unlike the Rimgar she knew, for it combined all four levels to create something that was beautiful.

His five students practiced the same behind him, seemingly able to do the _Rimgar_ of Eragon, though with not as much grace as he did. Yaela came close though. More than the rigid poses of the Rimgar, this was like the deadly dance of a warrior. Arya was entranced as she watched the alien exercise.

Laetri smiled beatifically and joined Eragon in his movements, who was peacefully executing his Rimgar with eyes closed. Arya watched with pride and sadness at just how much Eragon had grown from when she was with him.

The seven Riders flowed perfectly in sync, none of them able to match the absolute ease of Eragon's movements.

There was the barest shuffle to her right, and she turned her head slightly to find Lifaen. The rest of the Elves watched with wonderstruck and admiring eyes as if watching a great artistic performance. Her people were the greatest patrons of beauty in all things and art…and something like this would certainly fascinate them.

Lifaen produced the reed pipes he so favoured, and began to play. A clear male voice lifted in melodious song to the instrument, making some elves shiver in wonder.

Arya felt the essence of the Alfakyn as she took in the sight with scarce concealed amazement. Eragon flowed through the poses of the Rimgar with supernatural grace, his students accompanying him. The ethereal melody of Lifaen's reeds and the clear rich voice of Edurna accompanied the practice of the lead Rider, elevating it to a dance beyond anything she had ever seen.

"Vrael" some of the elves whispered softly as their eyes filled with pure delight and recognition. "Vrael".

_Dragons do not find humans or elves graceful_, sniffed Firnen haughtily, snapping her out of her trance. But then he relented. _But I have to admit to it now, these Riders certainly are._

They watched with happiness and amazement, until Lifaen slowly stopped playing and Edurna's voice wound down to silence. Eragon had reached the final stance of the Rimgar, and the Elves were applauding freely and bowing in respect to him. Arya too applauded with shining eyes as she saw Eragon as if for the first time.

Eragon opened his eyes, revealing the curiously bright indigo colour of them. Arya couldn't help but think he looked as elven as any of her subjects. Laetri hugged him gently and he returned the hug with the same gentleness, causing beaming smiles to break out on the faces of his students.

As the elves went back to their sparring and the ground cleared around Eragon and his students, the Lead Rider looked directly at Arya. Arya looked straight back at him, absently noting how _aged_ he seemed. She could see it in his eyes.

"Excuse us please, all of you" he said in a sincere voice. "I need to speak with the queen …a conversation that has been pending for a very long time now". Laetri looked at him with a concerned glance, and with a nod led the others further into the sparring area.

Eragon strode towards her calmly. "Let us walk if you please, Your Majesty. It has been long since we walked together under these eternal trees" he said, causing her eyes to widen. Unbidden, her crushing guilt vanished for a moment and mirth bubbled up at his eloquence. So unlike the bumbling peasant she once knew…

Birds trilled in every direction as Arya laughed her tinkling laugh, causing Eragon to laugh with her as well. She could hear Saphira wryly admonishing her Rider.

**'Walked under the eternal trees?' Oh, Eragon…**sighed Saphira fondly. **I am so glad you are awake. The Menoa tree was merciful for a second time, it seems. And greetings, Arya. It really is good to be back, and I have truly missed Firnen and you. **

_As have I, Saphira_ said Arya as she saw Saphira soar joyfully above them, high into the sky. Eragon seemed content just walking beside her and taking in the sights of Ellesmera nostalgically.

"I am sorry for my anger before, Eragon" murmured Arya as they kept walking. Eragon waved it off unconcernedly.

"Do not let it bother you, your Majesty. Everything you said was perfectly justified. I presume I will not have to repeat my tale?" he asked, looking at her.

"I would like you to someday, Eragon" she said softly. "Yaela told us the tale, true. But you are the one who lived it. I cannot imagine such a sacrifice as you made for your people. You are a Rider in the truest sense of the word"

Eragon seemed to be considering these words. "I did" he finally replied. "I certainly gave up something that must have been truly precious to me. I cannot remember how I felt back then before the event, your Majesty. It seems to have faded."

There they were, the heart of the issue. Arya's eyes widened at his words. "You do not…remember?"

"I do not" said Eragon, looking her squarely in the eyes. "I only know you as the Queen of Elves, someone who aided me during the war and someone…someone who I once had feelings towards. But I do not know how I felt. I cannot _remember _or understand." he said quietly. Arya's heart fell at this declaration. To hear it from him made it _final._

"I see you are distressed" he said soothingly. "Do not be, your Majesty. I do not wish for you to go through the same things I must have gone through. These things distract a ruler from their duties"

Arya's face remained calm, but her mind rushed through a thousand different emotions. _You will not know until you ask him, Arya. He is still Eragon even if he is different. And he is here_, encouraged Firnen's voice.

"Do you not still bear the…affection you once felt for me?" she asked in an almost curious voice. It took almost everything in her to ask this question.

"I am sorry, your Majesty" he said calmly. "But I do not. I…tore that out of my soul by uttering my true name, sacrificed it to drive away the spirits. You must have seen this in Yaela's memories"

"I did" she said, pausing to look at where they had arrived. It was the Crags of Tel'naeir they had walked unconsciously towards. Eragon sighed and seated himself at their edge, looking at the scene so close to his heart. Here he had trained for months under his Ebrithilar, Oromis and Glaedr.

"I have come home, master" he whispered softly with such feeling that Arya felt her eyes water. "You have my deepest admiration for your sacrifice, Eragon. It must have been hard… to _give it up_" she said, choking at the end.

_But not my thanks. Never my thanks, Eragon…for if you had stayed we could have been more. But we both chose duty, not knowing what it entailed._

"I would not know, my Queen. I do not remember how I felt for you then. I…I cannot even utter your true name anymore" he said apologetically, knowing this would hurt Arya.

"But it _was _hard" he continued, watching Arya shed silent tears. He was one of the very few people around whom Arya let her guard down.

"Through the years since my spell, I felt something missing. Some part of my soul was gone and I nearly went insane" he said, wanting to tell her for some reason. "Every second for a few decades I felt pain and loss similar to what I imagine the loss of a Dragon would feel. It was beyond description, you know. Beyond all physical and mental torments. As if someone had reached into my soul and twisted it past description."

"Even Saphira was driven mad for a time by my condition. My Riders did not know what to do after they tried every spell in their knowledge. The Nine nearly killed themselves trying to cure me…but it has gotten better with time. I have gotten used to the loss..the pain I can deal with. When my fortitude wavers for a time I have episodes like those of yesterday" he murmured. His eyes widened as he felt Arya hugging him tightly as she buried her head in his shoulders. She knew it to be true, for he now spoke only in the ancient language.

Her emotions of deepest apology and endless regret seemed to drown him under, causing him to gasp softly.

"Do not be sad…_Arya_" he said softly, seeing her shiver when he said her name. Then with a gentle voice he began singing, looking up at the sky. The melody seemed to soothe Arya greatly, and she burrowed into his embrace further.

"_Loivissa",_ he said and the word of power spread his influence everywhere in the Crags of Tel'naeir. Just like it had once, long ago.

"_Eldhrimner O Loivissa nuanen…"_

**Why do you hurt yourself so, little one?** Came Saphira's grief-struck voice as the loss and pain of his soul increased with his song. His sacrifice only enabled him to feel loss with Arya, not love. A loss whose magnitude he could never describe.

His melody caused the morning sunlight to brighten, and the ground to start shaking. With a sharp report the earth cracked for miles, causing all the terrain in sight to spout Lilies like the one he had made Arya back in the old empire a century ago.

Arya disengaged herself gently, and looked around with a stunned expression. Everywhere she looked she saw lilies covering the land, and the sight was heavenly. She hesitantly put her hand in Eragon's and watched as the newly created Lilies bent under the wind, shining in the morning sunlight.

_All the flowers you may want, Arya. I may have erased everything I once felt for you …but not my ability to feel itself. I feel friendship for you, something that has bloomed recently _reverberated Eragon's voice in her head as she took in the sight with a stunned reverence. But the moment his words registered, her lovely features exhibited a faint smile. A tide of hope washed over her over those words, and she laid her head once more on Eragon's shoulders.

She felt Firnen's surprise at Eragon's effortless singing of so many plants. _How did he do that?_ He whispered. Then he answered himself with a single word: _Eldunari._

High above Ellesmera, Firnen and Saphira roared together and was reciprocated by all the other Dragons.

**Be careful, Arya. He can feel now, it is true. But it is wild. That is why he now holds to duty stronger than even you…it gives him sanity. It is unchanging. Even I cannot heal that part of him, for it belongs to you. It always did** echoed Saphira's voice in her mind alone.

Arya only tightened her embrace around Eragon, feeling the emptiness and despair of the last century wash away gradually. It was like being reborn and remade at the same time. The Eragon in front of her was no longer a battle weary youth…no. He was the Leader of the Riders. He was the Kingslayer and Shadeslayer, a legendary Rider in Alagaesia.

_Do not hurt him, she-elf,_ warned Sahloknir's deep voice that brimmed with hidden menace. Arya did not begrudge the Dragon his warning, for she could never understand what was between Sahloknir and Eragon.

_Do not hurt him anymore, _echoed the voice of the other Dragons as one.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Eragon sat peacefully as Saphira landed through the roof. Vrael's accommodation could still contain her as it was built to house Umaroth himself who was many times the size of Saphira before his death. With a powerful concussion, his Dragon landed directly into the place made for her.

She looked around scrutinizingly, and her eyes fell upon Eragon. Eragon held up his hand, his father's ring Aren glinting in the moonlight. It was one of the very few things he had left of Brom. Getting up, he unbuckled his sword from his waist and floated it to his table with a whisper of a word.

**_You stirred this place up as usual, Eragon. The elves are all flitting around the little garden you created, singing poems and giving calf-eyed looks everywhere. Sometimes they can sicken even me_**_, _snorted Saphira as she looked at her Rider.

Eragon smiled at this. _Saphira, it is not necessarily a bad thing you know. Appreciating nature in so much depth is one of the traits that make the elven race so unique._ Saphira snorted louder at this, a large plume of smoke escaping her nostrils.

**_Your lily garden is absolutely crawling with Elves, Eragon. Arya just refused to leave the place, Firnen had to pick her up forcibly and get her back to Tialdari hall. Sahloknir just threatened Laetri point blank that if she wanted to stay in the place for as long as Arya he would dunk her in the lake._**

_Laetri, too? _Chuckled Eragon. _I wonder what Arya will think if she came to Aiedail._

He walked to Vrael's bed, laying himself down to sleep with a sigh of relief. Once before in his youth, he had not felt truly adequate to sleep in this bed. But that was a long time ago…a long time indeed. Now, all he felt was comfort as he laid himself upon the comfortable down filled mattress.

**_I know what you are thinking, Eragon. Aiedail can stand without you there to look after it every second. It is time for you to heal yourself at last. I will not let you leave Alagaesia until you are whole!_****,** came Saphira's firm voice.

Eragon only looked up at the night sky of Ellesmera, struck deeply once more by the Elven city's beauty. A hundred years of life and experience had not dimmed his awe in the slightest. The races were in balance once more and Ellesmera was flourished as never before.

_I know what you wish for me, Saphira. But I cannot be healed. The tear in my soul is a part of me, I fear. How do you think I can be healed, anyway? _he asked curiously. Saphira's long snout came in front of him, and her eyes met his.

**_I do not know. But I can feel it in my bones, my beloved. We will find happiness in Alagaesia again. You know of the instincts of my race. They served us well in the war and later_**she said.

Eragon considered the truth in Saphira's words. Alagaesia was vast and rich, and even he did not know everything there was to know about the land. If anywhere a solution could be found, it had to be in Alagaesia.

It seemed he had to intertwine his fate once more with Alagaesia.

_Where is Roran, Saphira? _ He asked. The great Sapphire dragon replied: _I talked to him, Eragon. He says he needs a little more time before he talks to you._

Eragon sent his agreement to the notion, fully knowing how versatile feelings could be. He had not thought that the Menoa tree would take a hand in things like that and extend the life of his cousin. Nevertheless, he was beyond glad with what she had done.

He was beyond being stubborn for the sake of pride. If staying in Alagaesia would rid him of his suffering, then so be it. He would stay here as long as necessary and return to Aiedail only periodically.

_I need to speak with the Nine, Saphira. Tomorrow I must entrust responsibility over our city to them. I have not left the city for a century…_

Saphira's assurances washed over him, conveying to him that Aiedail would be safe without him. **_You need to be here, Eragon. I feel it. You need to be here for now. _**

Eragon assented, smoothly slipping into the trancelike state that was his sleep. Tomorrow onwards, he would begin to actively involve himself in the affairs of Alagaesia.

It was as good a time as any for him to re-establish the Riders in Alagaesia. It was what his master and his father had fought and died for, and he could not in good conscience postpone it for any longer.

…...

A soft knock on the door woke him up, and he got off the bed and dressed himself in his white robes. "Come in" he said, and the door opened to let in Arya.

"Good morning, your Majesty" he said politely to her, cleansing himself with a spell. He reached for his sword, and slung it across his waist. Arya entered a tad uncertainly and looked around at his chambers.

"I am sorry for waking you up, Eragon" she said. "No matter, I was near to waking. Is there anything particular that you needed?"

A hurt look crossed Arya's face. "Can I not visit a friend, Eragon, without needing something from them? I thought you would like my company on the sparring field, which is where I assume you are heading?"

Eragon nodded. It had become a long inculcated habit of his for the century, practicing the Rimgar in the morning. He felt Saphira speaking to the other Dragons; he felt her interest as she spoke to Firnen.

"I would like that, your Majesty. Let me just take a moment to summon the others there as well" he said, closing his eyes and reaching for magic.

_Please join us in the sparring field._

The call echoed all over Ellesmera, but reaching only Eragon's students. Arya raised her eyebrows inquiringly at that.

"I have studied magic deeply for a hundred years, your Majesty. I was bound to discover a few things" he said mischievously, as he ran up to the roof and up the wall. Arya watched curiously as Eragon seemed to glide up the wall and jump from the open roof onto the ground.

As she looked out of the window, she saw him fall as if floating on the air. He touched down gently on the ground and beckoned Arya. Laughing, she too followed Eragon out through the roof and used magic to lessen the impact of her fall. A small cloud of dust seemed to erupt where she had fallen, causing her to cough softly.

"Shall we go, your Majesty?" asked Eragon as he walked briskly towards the training area. Arya followed him, still wiping off the dust gathered on her robes.

"So tell me, your Majesty. How fares Alagaesia?" he asked Arya. Arya's face seemed to take on an unreadable expression at this question. Firnen's voice reached out to her, urging her on.

_He will know soon enough, Arya. Tell him. He must know from you, it is for the best. At least he will be prepared to face Roran._

She nodded to Firnen by mind, and began.

"Alagaesia fares mostly well, Eragon. King Palencar rules over the land now and the humans are mostly at peace. Orik rules over the Dwarves peacefully as well…as peacefully as he can for dwarves I suppose" she chuckled, and Eragon smiled as well.

"I rule my people from Ellesmera, as you well know. You should see the cities, Eragon. The cities outside our forest. They are full of people of all races…my people walk freely once more. As do the dwarves and even some Urgals. When I see Illirea or Gil'ead, I feel my own struggles have been worth what we have achieved" she said with shining eyes.

"It sounds like something before the fall, your Majesty. The rulers of the three Races and Alagaesia have done well without us, it seems" said Eragon with satisfaction. Arya shook her head sadly at this.

"You mistake me, Eragon. I never said we are at full peace…though we have achieved much. Strife still exists everywhere, and the Urgal bloodlust I am afraid has increased considerably. They are pushing at their boundaries and Nar Garzhvog seems unable to contain his kinsmen"

Eragon shook his head.

"Nothing that cannot be quelled, then. I might have to go to the Urgals and have a talk with them. I hope they still remember me" he said as an afterthought. Arya snorted, looking at him incredulously.

"Remember you?" she laughed a full laugh. "Alagaesians revere you, Eragon! You literally ended a hundred years of Darkness and bloodshed in the land, and you are a legend for that. Eragon Kingslayer, they call you. Bane of Galbatorix, Slayer of Shades, Bringer of Light…I would assume if you flew out to Illirea, it would be an event that would force the rulers of all races to convene and meet with you!" she said, with mirth dancing in her eyes.

Arya's melodious laughter increased in volume at the dumbfounded expression on Eragon's face. "Really?" he asked. Him, a legend? He knew that killing Galbatorix would give him fame, but what Arya was describing was ludicrous.

"Yes, Eragon" said Arya, her laughter fading.

"I remember those days" said Eragon, looking around with a distant expression. "I could never have done it without you, all of you" he said to Arya with a smile, and received one in return. Nasuada's face flashed in his memory after a long time, causing him to stop briefly. It had been nearly eighty years since he had seen Nasuada.

"What happened to Nasuada?" he asked Arya, whose expression tightened imperceptibly.

"After forty years on the throne, she abdicated and let her son Palencar ascend. It is not known how she died. She disappeared into the vastness of Alagaesia, and she was never seen again" said Arya softly. "She was a good friend to me, and our race. Nasuada, Orik and I managed to craft a treaty that allowed free passage for Elves and Dwarves in the Broddring Kingdom"

Eragon said nothing, choosing to walk in silence and digest what he had been told. Much had happened in his long absence from the land.

"That is sad" he said without much feeling, causing Arya to look at him sharply. "And how is Orik, and the Ingietum?"

"Orik and the Ingietum are well. The dwarves are prospering like never before, now that all lands except Du Weldenvarden is open to them. Orik just celebrated his hundred and twentieth coronation anniversary this year, and was greatly saddened by your absence" murmured Arya.

_We all were, _her melodious voice resonated in his mind. Eragon's heart was gladdened at news of Orik's wellbeing. Orik was family, along with Roran and his family. Though his absence must have hurt them, he was here now. That is what he told Arya.

"I am here now. I believe that despite my personal wishes, my friends are right. I have to take a direct hand in the matters of Alagaesia to establish the Riders once more" he said, as they arrived at the sparring ground.

"May I join you in your practice of the Rimgar, Ebrithil?" asked Arya. Eragon was again struck by how _free_ she seemed. Time had indeed healed her somewhat; She had shed the mask of indifference she wore so many years ago.

"You may, Shur'tugal" he said gravely, as his other Riders approached him. This time, it seemed, the elves were waiting for him.

As he led them on the _Rimgar,_ thirty Elves and seven Riders followed. They flowed peacefully to Lifaen's uplifting tunes, bringing smiles of delight to many an elf. A slight happiness flowed through Eragon as the Elves joined him on his practice…it made him feel a kinship with them. It gave him a tranquillity he only felt slightly on Aiedail.

_Perhaps I have left Alagaesia for too long. Aiedail may be my home, but this land is my birthplace. Perhaps the Nine were right in dragging me here…I will find healing here._

…

"Why are we going this way again, Ebrithil?" asked Barristan curiously as he followed Eragon down the winding paths of Ellesmera. Once their practice of the Rimgar was over, Eragon had asked the six Riders to accompany him to meet with someone. Arya and Laetri were deep in conversation, so he did not invite them.

"To meet someone I hold in high regard" said Eragon calmly as he trudged forward. "Tell me, Barristan, wasn't your father a blacksmith in Kuasta?" he asked. Barristan was very young, barely twenty two summers old. Eragon could not help but see himself in Barristan as the young Rider rose fast in the ranks.

He was also as inexperienced as Eragon himself was when that age. Eragon smirked faintly as he saw Barristan still looking around in wonder. _Ellesmera does have that effect on people._

"Yes, Ebrithil" he said, hearing the sounds of metal being forged ahead. Yaela's eyes lighted in recognition of the tree in which the forge fire glowed brightly. Eragon nodded to her, confirming her suspicions.

"We are going to see the famed Elf master forger, Rhunon-elda. Treat her with the utmost respect, Barristan. The rest of you are no doubt familiar with her." he said gravely, walking up to Rhunon's tree with his five students in tow.

Memories assaulted him, memories more than a century old. The forging of his sword under Rhunon's guidance was one of his most vivid memories from that time. The heat of the forge, the desperation of those months…he mentally shivered.

The door opened, showing a dishevelled Rhunon at the door. She stared at him with annoyance as if incredulous that he had the audacity to disturb her in her work.

"What do you want, Shadeslayer? Did you lose _Brisingr _aswell?" she asked irritably. Yaela smiled at her brusque manner, and Leya looked amused as well. Barristan, however, looked outraged at how his master was being addressed.

"No, Rhunon. I wished for my students to meet you, and I wished to as well. It has been a century since I saw you, after all" he said. Rhunon stared at him a moment longer and beckoned him inside with his students.

"Well, I suppose you want me to forge swords for them? Have you no respect for the oaths I make, Shadeslayer?" she asked gruffly. Eragon's eyes danced with amusement, he really did find the forthrightness of Rhunon refreshing. His students treated him only with utmost respect…and he did get tired of it.

"No, Rhunon-elda. Unless you want to?" he asked curiously. Rhunon seemed so torn that it almost made Eragon laugh again. Then she sighed disconsolately, and said:

"It cannot be, I am afraid. Your sword is one of a kind and I won't forge another in such a manner without reason. These Riders I am afraid will be without swords" she said, making as if to return to her work.

Eragon could see Barristan's temper rising. The young man was quite the hothead, despite his skill at swordsmanship and magic. **I want to watch what he does, Little one. Don't stop him, **came Saphira's voice.

"Why won't you forge swords for us? We are Riders and we deserve our own blades! How are we to fight without a Rider's blade, my current sword just breaks into pieces no matter how much magic I fortify it with!" he snarled, causing Rhunon to look at him again.

Rhunon looked at him as if he were Islanzadi come back to life.

"A rude one, you are" she observed dryly, causing the Elven Riders to smile. Barristan looked abashed at the comment, trying to look down at his shoes.

"But I like you" she continued. "I will tell you the same thing I told your master all those years ago: There is no use trying to strengthen your sword with external magic" she said, and Barristan made as if to interrupt.

One look from the ancient Elf-woman silenced him.

"And you say you cannot fight well without a Rider's blade? Foolishness. What have you been teaching them, Eragon Shadeslayer?" she asked disappointedly.

"I don't spar with them, Rhunon-elda. I leave that to the Nine. I instruct them in the finer aspects of Life and magic only" he said, looking slightly disappointed with himself.

"I see" she said. "Have you even seen your master fight, boy?" she asked curiously. Barristan shook his head, seeming to take offense at being called 'boy'. Eragon had not drawn _Brisingr_ openly for many years now…many of the younger students had not even seen him wield that sword.

"I am a Rider, Rhunon-elda" he said sternly. Rhunon laughed out loud, and even Yaela and the others smiled, even Eragon smiled faintly. Barristan did take his duties seriously, but he had not been in any real situation that tested him. He was not _forged_ by life and its hardships.

"I see it is time for a lesson" she said mysteriously. "Perhaps I can teach you something…consider it my gift for your forthrightness"

She strode casually towards Eragon, who stood calmly beside the forge. Without warning, she snatched a poker from the forge and swung it towards Eragon's head with unbelievable speed. Embers flew everywhere and the air made a screeching sound as it was split by the mightily swung implement.

Barristan watched with amazement as his master caught the poker calmly between the first two fingers of his right hand, and he saw them glow an ominous blue colour. With a flick of his wrist he shattered the poker into two, the broken half spinning high into the air and embedding itself into the wall.

"You have grown stronger, Shadeslayer" murmured Rhunon appreciatively as she turned back to a flabbergasted Barristan. Even the Elves were surprised…they _could_ duplicate the feat, certainly, but not so instantaneously.

"Did you see, young Rider? Your master used no sword; you truly do not need a sword if you know how to fight. The world is your weapon, youngling. A sword will only augment that ability…always remember: _A Rider is a weapon all by himself_" she said firmly, watching as Barristan nodded shamefacedly.

"Thank you for your instruction, Rhunon" Eragon said politely. "I am sure Barristan has learned. Now, what I wished to ask you is…can you help choose swords for my Riders? We have a huge store of swords that Galbatorix looted from the fall, and your opinion on my students' choices would be much appreciated."

Rhunon considered.

"_That_ I can do" she said with certainty. "Now, off with you and your Riders, Shadeslayer. I need to attend to my work!"

…

They were in a beautiful clearing in the forest, blanketed by a lush green lawn. The sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees in bright shafts of white. The Queen and Laetri walked side by side purposefully towards a cottage, built alongside a large white memorial.

Laetri paused to take in the almost inviolate nature of the place, feeling immediately the privacy and peace it afforded to its resident. She slowly neared the memorial and paused to read its epitaph:

_ Katrina _

_ Beloved Wife_

_Mother of Ismira, Geran, Helga and Helidan._

_Where you rest our souls rest too. _

_Peace be thine, my love._

The epitaph brought tears to Laetri's eyes, for the parting it spoke of was cruel indeed. She had been witness to the love Katrina and Roran had shared, a love that transcended empires and defied kings. It was a love worth the attention of the Elves' greatest poets…pity and sadness bloomed in her heart for Roran Stronghammer, cousin of Eragon.

To live on so long alone after his wife's passing…She shivered. Her acute senses picked up the door of the cottage opening and a tall and well-built man striding out towards them. Arya waited for him, and Laetri noted the familiarity they had with each other.

"I am sorry for you, Roran Stronghammer. It seems you have had your own share of suffering for the past hundred years…I am truly sorry" she said with feeling.

Roran who had just finished conversing with Arya, turned to her and said. "Thank you, Laetri svit-kona. Your concern means much to me…I am half surprised Eragon did not come bursting in here as he was often wont to do" he chuckled without humour.

"He has changed, Roran…just the way you have. You are two different men now. I assume her Majesty told you Eragon's story by mind speech?" she asked. Roran's eyes widened at this and he looked at Arya with consternation. He did not know it was possible to recognize communication by mind so easily…and its content as well.

Arya just shook her head, "Do not underestimate Laetri, Roran. Hundred years ago she defeated Formora in a duel, and I assume she has not been idle since becoming a Rider either. She is an elf of enormous skill and wisdom."

Laetri's eyes tightened at Formora's name and her fists clenched. Then she relaxed slowly, staring at Roran and Arya.

"As I was saying, you must know about your cousin and what he has gone through" she asked Roran, her bright-blue eyes piercing right through his. Roran nodded with a downcast expression, murmuring "It was better when we were boys in Carvahall. We were happy back then, me and Eragon. Dragons and magic…" he almost snapped out in a curse.

Laetri's eyes widened at this, "The years have made you a cynical man, Stronghammer. Why did the Menoa tree curse you so?" she asked sadly. For Roran lived nothing but a curse. Sometimes she wondered about Immortality. For the human race had the ability to join their loved ones in death after a time…Elves were denied that luxury.

"I do know" said Stronghammer, sinking down to the grass carpeted floor in misery, hugging the memorial of Katrina as if it were something vital to his survival. Arya looked at him in pity, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You cannot give up yet Roran…she can be found. You _must _find her…and now with Eragon here I have no doubt you can do it. Your cousin will help you, and with the might of the Riders behind you nothing is impossible" asserted Arya encouragingly.

Laetri was missing something. "What is amiss?" she asked with concern. Arya's eyes were downcast, and Roran laughed a harsh laugh.

"What is amiss, you ask? _Everything_ is amiss." he whispered in despair. After a few moments to collect himself he began his tale, and Laetri listened patiently.

"I thought we would have peace after Ismira was born. After Eragon killed Galbatorix, I thought I could live out my life in happiness as Earl of Palencar valley. And we did too, for seven years. For seven years we had everything we dreamed of. Helga, Helidan, and Geran were triplets and we had the utmost joy at their birth. My life was full."

Laetri could almost see the picture he painted with his words. But Roran's voice darkened imperceptibly.

"At the dawn of her eighth year, Ismira was chosen by a Dragon" said Roran bitterly, and Laetri could not hide her gasp of surprise this time. No one on Aiedail knew this fact, not even Eragon. They did not have any Rider named Ismira of that she was sure.

"What was the colour of the Dragon?" she asked urgently.

"Black like Shruikan used to be. But with the brightest golden eyes he was. Belegroch she called him, the moment she laid eyes on him. She was the pride of our Earldom, the second Rider to come from our lands…the first being Eragon Kingslayer himself!"

He shook his head angrily at that.

"So we sent her to Ellesmera, from where she would reach my cousin Eragon. From whom she would learn the arts of a Rider. I remember how excited she was to meet her uncle, master of the Riders and slayer of Galbatorix. She used to adore him"

Laetri could not fault young Ismira that, for almost everyone who met Eragon adored him. _Except his enemies, that is_ snorted Sahloknir.

Controlling herself with an effort, she continued to listen.

"But she never reached Ellesmera" he whispered with a haunted look in his eyes. Laetri felt Sahloknir's surprise as clear as her own at this. "She and her Belegroch were abducted and her elven guardians incapacitated. We found nothing of her in the forest, save her guards. She was gone…and that broke Katrina"

Tears now flowed down Roran's eyes as he recounted his tale.

"My eldest was gone, and I roused all the races. They owed me and Eragon, so I called upon those debts…we searched high and low. We searched everywhere for a decade but she could not be found. Katrina was inconsolable when we gave up on the search…I continued of course, but she held on to her will long enough to raise our other children"

_As tragic a tale as any_, thought Laetri. Fate and misery did not leave Eragon's blood alone. Arya was staring at the epitaph, undoubtedly hearing the tale Roran related with undivided attention.

"Do you know why I was cursed by the Tree, Laetri svit-kona?" asked Roran. Laetri shook her head, Roran continued with a note of absolute anger in his voice.

"She was angry with Eragon" he said. Laetri could no longer contain herself at this, letting out a soft exclamation.

"Yes. Eragon owed something to the Tree, and she intended to collect. But he was not there to ask anything of, so she took her price from _me, _when she sensed Eragon's blood in mine. I am not allowed to join my wife in death because of ERAGON'S ACTIONS!" he roared with rage, as his eyes turned red.

"He was not here" cried Roran disconsolately. "He was _not here_ to keep safe his niece_, nor_ to fulfil his promises! And my family has paid with blood and misery…tell me Laetri svit-kona, tell me! Is that not sufficient grounds for anger?" he asked pleadingly.

Laetri could only watch Roran's pain as she thought only of how to break this to Eragon. _Why should people such as them suffer so much over stopping a madman? Curse you, Galbatorix,_ she snarled to herself. The consequences of the war reached even down through the decades, still destroying innocent lives that deserved only happiness.

_I hope you are strong enough to hear all this, Eragon. Sahloknir, please relate this unfortunate tale to Saphira Brightscales for only she can stem Eragon's misery afterwards._

….

Far away from the hallowed elven lands under the sacred dwarven peak of Farthen Dur, sat the magnificent city of Tronjheim. But it was in the throne room of the great city the splendour of dwarvendom was truly present.

King Orik sat upon his stone throne, his hand tightening on the hammer Volund as the messenger spoke. When he had first taken the throne, his worthiness had been doubted greatly even _with_ Guntera's approval. But he had led his people successfully through the rebellion against Galbatorix and through the years after the war. Now the Dwarven nations stood proud, prospering greatly under his reign. Trade flowed like gold, and gold flowed like water in their kingdoms.

But with narrowed eyes, Orik thought sombrely. _Where there exists order, chaos exists as well. Blasted Urgals, Nar Garzhvog's words were for naught. The old Ram promised peace from the Ugralgra, but it was not to be. As anticipated their bloodlust and instincts were not tempered so easily._

"Majesty, Urgals are pushing against the border of the human Kingdom, slowly straining tenuous relations. King Palencar has managed to subdue their current incursions but I am afraid we might need something more to contain them. The Spine is literally crawling with the beasts" said the envoy distastefully.

"Not beasts" said Orik, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. "They are capable of emotion and sophistication like the other races. It is their nature…they cannot help it." mused Orik.

"If you say so, my King" his face looked doubtful at the notion of Urgals not being the beasts he thought them to be. "But King Palencar agrees with your opinion. Nothing short of the Rider Eragon himself reappearing would solve the potential crisis they pose."

Orik tapped Volund softly against the floor, appreciating the sound so close to the dwarven heart. True, If Eragon were to return they could negotiate with the Urgals…and if needs be contain them with force. The problem truly was a conundrum for the nations. Without careful handling the Urgal situation was likely to blow up in their faces.

The door to the throne room opened with a great swing and the herald announced: "Thorv approaches the throne, your Majesty!", and in strode the dwarf garbed in chain mail and helm. Thorv had diminished little since the war.

_From a dwarven warrior to the first ever Dwarven Rider,_ mused Orik. Thorv had been chosen a Rider by the Dragon Morgothal twenty years after Galbatorix's fall. The name of the Dwarven God said to have created the Dragons seemed a fitting name for the creature, for the Dwarves felt as if their inclusion in the Riders' pact was their Gods' gift to them.

Thorv knelt, paying obeisance to his king.

"Rise" said Orik firmly, noting the smile playing on the Rider's face. Thorv rose, ignoring the human envoy next to him.

"Perhaps I should return later, your Majesty. I presume the Rider has important news for you" he made to leave. But Thorv stopped him.

"Stay, Lord Almen" said Thorv in a gruff voice. Orik raised his eyebrows at this, but Thorv continued regardless: "It is my belief that this news concerns all the nations of Alagaesia. Your Majesty… Eragon has set foot in Alagaesia once again. He is accompanied by seven Riders, two of who are members of his original elven guard. He has met Queen Arya in Ellesmera, and his cousin Roran. I was in Silthrim with mine friend Nari, and we received news by mirrors of scrying."

Orik's face was a picture of shock for a few moments, and then it split in the widest smile in a long time. As the Dwarves in the room cheered raucously at the news by thrusting their weapons into the air, Orik stood up and faced Almen with a beaming smile.

"Mine foster brother has returned to us, Almen. Palencar needs to know of this immediately, so see to it that he does!" said Orik gruffly, and grabbed Volund from its place behind him.

Thorv was speaking animatedly with his comrade in arms, Shrrngien. The dwarves laid little store in pointless etiquette, instead relying on faith and valour. Orik and his warriors were comrades, so the King never pushed authority too much on them. They were warriors of great honour and would do their duty.

"Send a message to Ellesmera, Shrrngien. Tell Arya to send Eragon here, or to get ready to host dwarven guests at Ellesmera!" said Orik loudly. Shrrngien bowed, and left the hall briskly.

"Thank you for the welcome news, Thorv" said Orik gratefully, his eyes dancing in delight. Thorv bowed once more, before he left the room proudly. Almen however was sitting in his chair without moving, his face a study in hope.

"He has returned. After all this time, he is come back!" he whispered slowly as if savouring the words he spoke. Orik nodded at him, understanding the fascination all the races had for Eragon Kingslayer. They looked at him as if he were a messiah, someone born to save Alagaesia from the darkness.

_That he is, King Orik. No matter how far he travels, no matter how long he is apart from the land, his soul lies here in Alagaesia, _rumbled the deep voice of Morgothal in his mind.

Orik could only agree.

…

_The Menoa tree seems to have done her work. I think she made cut me off from the loss and pain I was feeling…a loss in itself. But I was foolish to expect that Killing Galbatorix was the end of misery._ said Eragon, as he absently traced his long fingers over _Brisingr_'s sheath. Laetri released the sharp breath she was holding, Eragon was receiving the news much better than she had anticipated.

**I am sorry for the death of your nest-mate's offspring, little one, **consoled Saphira as she flew high into the sky, Sahloknir following her with his Rider on him. Eragon breathed in the rarefied air of the far reaches of the sky with little difficulty, feeling certain clarity steal over his mind.

It helped if Saphira shared his soul so completely, the two of them were now more one entity rather than two separate ones. He could feel the missing part of his soul being filled partially by Saphira, and he could feel the partner of his heart keeping the loss and suffering at bay.

_I love you, Saphira…And she is merely missing, Saphira _said Eragon as he watched Sahloknir perform a corkscrew through the air, his Rider laughing delightedly. _And I understand, now, why Roran was so enraged. He was right to be…but as much as it pains my heart I have to say I was not at fault. If I was not recuperating then, I would certainly have rushed to Alagaesia when the Tree had summoned me._

_You are the wisest of us all, Ebrithil_ came Laetri's voice, brimming with relief and happiness. Eragon stared as Saphira broke through the clouds to face the beautiful sun. He closed his eyes peacefully, letting the sunlight wash over him.

**Sahloknir's scales are shining so brightly, Eragon!**Exclaimed Saphira with a small hint of jealousy about her. Eragon laughed at his beautiful Dragon, she could be so petty sometimes. He could see Saphira trying to distract him from his suffering, and he let her. For once he would leave all his pains upon the ground, and fly high and free into the air with his Dragon.

"Garjzla" he said quietly, and Saphira's scales began to shine like living fire. He could feel Laetri's amusement and Sahloknir's indignation at his act.

Sights like this were what made his long life worth living, thought Eragon as he and Laetri drifted far above human eyesight…above even the clouds. As Sahloknir flew alongside Saphira, he saw Laetri look deep into his eyes and see the pain and sadness he hid in his heart.

A hundred years of companionship and support had made them closer than possible. Only Saphira had more of a claim on him. Laetri had a way of reading his fears and misery in an uncanny way.

_Eragon-elda, do not fear. For we shall have your niece back alive and well, if she is still with the living. We are Riders, and none can hide from us, _came Sahloknir's quiet rumble.

**Aye, we are Riders **echoed Saphira's rich voice in their minds. Eragon smiled as they floated peacefully in the high reaches of the Sky, and put his faith in himself and his Order. He would put the pain behind him, and look to the future. The future of his order and Alagaesia.

He would look to the future.


	5. Chapter 5

**Greetings! The reviews, though few, have been enthusiastic and positive. I thank you all sincerely for reading. **

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 5

Eragon clasped his hands solemnly, looking at the Riders gathered around him. Barristan, Nuada, Ildarien, Leya, Yaela and Laetri all looked at him enquiringly as he effortlessly bent magic to his will: _"Adurna Risa"_ he said causing the water in the basin next to him to rise up and spread out in a flat surface that reached from ground to ceiling, and from wall to opposite wall.

"_Draumr Kopa" _he said, focusing upon Illirea. The former city of Uru'baen looked much the same save for an occasional tower here or there…but the very spirit of the city was different. It almost looked as if Galbatorix's darkness had ceded altogether, leaving it much like it was during its glory days.

"Familiarize yourself with the new layout of the city, everyone" said Eragon as he showed them the city thoroughly. The Riders took in the information with complete focus, recording it rapidly. About a quarter hour later he let his spell dissipate, the water receding back to its basin.

"Barristan, Leya, Nuada and Ildarien" said Eragon calmly, causing the aforementioned Riders to look at him attentively. "You are to travel to Illirea and begin to establish our presence from there. Begin establishing ties with King Palencar. I want to have an outpost of the Riders in Illirea within the end of the month"

"Yes, Ebrithil" said Ildarien inclining his head respectfully. They were trained for situations such as these and he was sure they could deal with the newest human monarch.

Eragon nodded, turning to Yaela and Laetri. "The two of you shall remain here with me. Laetri shall accompany me on my task and Yaela shall co-ordinate all of us, so that we shall remain in contact always"

"What will you be doing if I may ask, Ebrithil?" questioned Barristan in a curious voice. Eragon's face expressed his sadness as he replied: "My niece was abducted and her guards killed, young Rider. Ismira…when she was born I felt she would change a great many things. She is just like me in that regard, we both are fated to be linchpins in the stirrings of this land"

"So, you will search for her?" asked Barristan.

"I will. The trail of magic in that place, though old, can be recovered if one knows how. I can feel it somehow, I know she is alive and well despite the inability of the magicians to scry her" said Eragon with certainty. Then he stood up, and his Riders stood up with him.

"The four of you are equal to the task I have set you. You are full members of the order. I only ask that you defer to Nuada in this regard as he has much experience in these affairs" said Eragon, looking at Nuada. The four assented and took their leave of their master.

Yaela and Laetri flanked Eragon as he made towards Arya's palace. "Eragon-elda, Sahloknir says that a red dragon is on its way to Ellesmera and that his rider is Dwarven. Thorv, I believe his name is" said Laetri.

"We knew of a dwarven Rider, but I did not think it was my old guard Thorv" said Eragon with a little surprise. "He brought us to Ellesmera from Tarnag, the first time I came here" said Eragon to Yaela's questioning look.

"Can you ask him to meet with me, Laetri?" he asked the beautiful elven woman. In response, Laetri closed her eyes. Eragon felt her mind reach out towards the south for several miles. After a few minutes she spoke:

"He will meet with you, Eragon-elda. He seemed most eager to, in fact, and asked if Tialdari Hall sits well with you"

"It does" said Eragon as Tialdari Hall came into view. _Your Majesty, can I speak to you_? asked Eragon with his mind. _Come to my quarters, Eragon_ came the soft reply of the queen. He made towards her quarters with Laetri and Yaela following him.

He knocked on her door softly. "Come in" said Arya's musical voice, and Eragon and his Riders let themselves in. Arya seemed to be working on some missive but got up immediately after seeing Eragon.

"Greetings, Eragon. Greetings, Laetri svit-kona and Yaela. What brings you to see me at this hour?" asked Arya, folding up the thick missive and putting it in a box.

"I am going to follow Ismira's trail" said Eragon firmly. Arya looked up in surprise at this announcement. "Is she not dead?" she asked in a sad tone. Eragon shook his head at this, he did not believe Ismira to be dead.

"Laetri will be accompanying me this time, Your Majesty" said Eragon, taking Laetri's hand in his causing the elf to squeeze his hand lightly. Arya's eyes narrowed slightly at this gesture but she replied calmly.

"I see. Thank you for informing me" said Arya. "Will you be meeting with Thorv and Morgothal…I assume you sensed their presence?" she asked. Eragon nodded, releasing Laetri's hand.

"Laetri spoke with him, he said he would meet us here. Do you wish to accompany me, your Majesty?"

Arya considered for a moment and then assented. Eragon walked together with the three women surrounding him, thinking wryly about what he would have done in his youth at such a situation. Laetri, Arya and Yaela were all beautiful even among elves…and Arya seemed to be even more beautiful than before. He smiled sadly as he felt Saphira's joy as she flew with Firnen, just the two of them. His beloved Dragon had found her mate, it seemed, after all this time.

"He is happy" murmured Arya as she looked at Eragon. "After being reunited with her after so long. Our bond is full of his joy at their reunion. They are together at last" she said as they walked into the massive Tialdari Hall. It occurred to Eragon that they were talking as much about themselves as they were about Firnen and Saphira.

"They are together" said Eragon in agreement as they stopped to wait for the dwarven Rider to alight. Arya stood on his left and Laetri and Yaela on his right. His silver hair whipped around as a massive Red Dragon landed with a thud… Eragon liked the colour of the Dragon. It was blood red, literally shining like a hoard of rubies.

_He is nothing compared to you, Saphira_ soothed Eragon as he felt Saphira's indignation at his wholehearted approval of who she considered a hatchling. _Nothing compared to you._ _Your scales shine much brighter than his, there is no competition._

_**I know, Eragon**_said Saphira smugly. _**The hatchling does not know the true meaning of glory in flight. I might have to teach him someday soon.**_

Smiling at his Dragon's antics, Eragon strode forward to meet the Rider who had jumped to the ground. The Dragon lowered its neck to stare into Eragon's eyes, its own eyes shining an angry red. Eragon stared back calmly as he reached out to the Dragon with his mind and saw it shake its head as if trying to acclimatize to something.

He had been told that his mind-force was enormous and vast by all his Riders, even Laetri. Thorv strode up to him and offered a gauntleted fist, which he clasped solemnly.

"You have changed much, Shadeslayer, from the young stripling you once were. You have become a true Rider, the leader of the Riders. It is mine pleasure to greet you as a fellow Rider of our order" said the Dwarven warrior heartily. Eragon smiled. "We all change as the years pass, Thorv. And I am pleased to see you as well".

_Well met, Dragon_ said Eragon to Morgothal. _It is an honour to meet the first Dragon to be bonded to a dwarf, _he said courteously. The enormous Morgothal shivered at the force of his mind, and replied:

_You have changed much from the clueless Eragon Shadeslayer I saw from Thorv's memories. It is an honour to meet you, Ebrithil_ said Morgothal, his voice rumbling like rocks. Eragon inspected the Dragon, noting the rugged and powerful nature of his body. This was a strong Dragon, a powerful one. Fitting for the dwarven race.

_Have you met your brethren? _He asked. Morgothal flared his wings and took off into the sky after inclining his neck slightly to Eragon. _I go now. Welcome once again to your home, Master._

Eragon acknowledged the welcome and turned back to Thorv who had finished greeting Arya. Laetri came to his side and whispered: "Barristan called out to Yaela and said he needed help with the spells on Cirnathor's saddle. She will join us later"

Eragon inclined his head, and he and Laetri made to the queen's side. "Let us walk, everyone. We have many important matters to discuss. Thorv, could you please shield us from prying ears?"

Thorv incanted the familiar spell, and Eragon felt the magic surround them and shield them. He nodded approvingly at Thorv, indicating for him to begin.

"Mine King is informed of your arrival, Shadeslayer" said Thorv, not beating around the bush. "He sends you his greetings and hopes to meet you at Tronjheim. He even said he would visit Ellesmera if you wouldn't Tronjheim"

Eragon smiled, Orik had not changed a bit. It would be good to see his foster brother once more after all these years. "I will visit him, Thorv, you have my word. But for now I have an offer for you".

"Yes, Shadeslayer?"

"I will be busy trying to find Ismira, Rider of Belegroch. I know she is alive" said Eragon, causing Thorv's eyes to widen in surprise. "I wish for you to accompany me and Laetri on this quest"

Thorv grinned, and banged his mailed fist on his armor. "Upon my honour, I will serve and protect you Ebrithil!" Eragon clapped him on his shoulder in a comradely fashion and turned to Arya. "We will be leaving tomorrow, your Majesty. Do you wish to include anyone else in our party?"

"Me" came a rough voice behind them. Eragon turned slowly, watching Roran walk towards them briskly. "With you we might find her, Eragon. No matter how much I resent you my daughter is more important. I will accompany you on this quest" he said daring for anyone to question him.

Eragon sighed, and nodded. "It would be wrong of me to deny you this" he said. "You may come with us. Your Majesty, have you any other addition?" he asked again, turning to Arya who was watching with narrowed eyes.

"Yes" said Arya, her eyes filling with resolve. "Me" she said firmly. "I will come with you. Dathedr will tend to the nation while I am with you"

They stared at each other intensely and to the others it seemed like they were having a private conversation. Eragon smiled faintly, "Are you quite sure?" he asked. "I am sure. I will take your advice this time, for it is my turn to sacrifice for Firnen. He refuses to part with Saphira, and I refuse to part with him. So with you I go", she replied.

"Well said" said Eragon after a moment's consideration. "We leave tomorrow, with as little fanfare as possible. Your Majesty, do you know the spot where Ismira was taken? I feel it best to start our journey from there"

"I know the place" said Arya sorrowfully. "We spent many a year searching there for the lost Rider. I know the place very well". Roran's eyes gave the answer, of course he would know where his daughter disappeared.

"Very well. We will meet tomorrow, then. Let us adjourn to make our arrangements" said Eragon as he and Laetri walked back to their bower. As they bid farewell and made towards the tree that housed the Lead Rider, Eragon felt a familiar mind touch upon his own.

_Can I help, Your Majesty?_

_Eragon, I feel ashamed to ask this question…but I must ask anyways_ came Arya's hesitant voice. Eragon sent a sense of reassurance and openness, prompting her to ask. Arya seemed to gather herself, before she asked: _Is Laetri your mate?_

Eragon's face grew still at the question, a question he himself did not have an answer for. Laetri was someone who knew him extremely well as a person, someone who had gone through pain similar to his. He spoke to Arya, and his voice was soft, uncertain:

_I…do not know. We are close to each other, this I know for sure. Closer even than I was to Roran during my youth at Carvahall. I know much about her she has not deigned to share with anyone else and it is much the same with her. When you go through a century of life with someone you tend to develop a very deep bond. You must know this well, Majesty._

He heard Arya's snort in his mind. _I do. Now, I would appreciate it if you could answer my question. _

Eragon looked at Laetri, knowing full well she was listening in on the conversation. It was a gift of Laetri's…she was unnaturally attuned to the mind pool. Unless one took precautions against that kind of listening Laetri could listen involuntarily.

_Laetri and I…what are we you ask? I do not wish to define what we share, for I believe that we have exceeded such definitions. The closest I could say is…she is as precious to me as Saphira herself, _said Eragon feeling the pure shock of Arya's mind. In extension he also felt Firnen's shock and Saphira's acceptance of this fact.

He and Laetri had gone through too much and weathered too much to be anything less. What Arya knew about him was only the tip of the iceberg, the absolute essentials.

_I did not know it was possible for someone to love another that much,_ said Arya to him by mind. Eragon could pick out sensations of loss and hopelessness in the Queen's mind, and hoped she would not let it distract her. Arya was one of the strongest people he knew and someone like her would not give in so easily to emotions. The loss in him went up to unbearable proportions, and he felt the familiar sensation as if his very being was unmade.

_**ERAGON!**_ Came Saphira's anxious roar. But it slowly receded as all three females merged their minds with his, holding him together firmly. _Thank you Your Majesty, Laetri _said Eragon in a ragged voice as he got up from his kneeling position. This was one of the shortest spells of his malady…often it lasted for about a quarter hour. A quarter hour of pain he could not begin to describe.

_Is that how it is every time, Eragon?_ Came Arya's horrified voice. She had only felt the fringes of the phenomenon…but she had almost drawn back in fear of even faintly experiencing such a thing. To have your very being slowly unmade at regular intervals...it was cruelty at its purest.

_**This was nothing. You should have seen him after he cast that accursed spell at the spirits!**_Snapped Saphira, sending images and sensations to Arya. This time Eragon could _feel_ the utter horror and fear in Arya's mind as she beheld his suffering from so long ago. Laetri put her arms around his neck and laid her head upon his shoulders. Eragon felt the soothing touch of her mind, and he gently hugged her to himself.

_You went through …this? _Asked Arya in a dumbstruck voice as she felt an echo of the torment forced upon Eragon. _I am humbled, Eragon. Even Durza could not make a person experience that much pain_ she said with revulsion and pity. Eragon used the silence to gather his composure and released Laetri from his embrace.

_You must not stay overlong in my mind_, warned Eragon. Arya was still in the fringes of his intellect, and he wanted to keep it that way. _My mind is different, and it will irrevocably change anyone who delves in too deeply. Man, elf or dwarf does not matter…I am too different. You must be careful in the future, Majesty._

He felt Arya withdraw from his mind and he felt an emotion he could honestly say he had never felt to such an extent from her. It was respect, deep respect of the like she had probably held for Osthato Chetowa. _I will be careful…Ebrithil, _she said sincerely._ I bid you a peaceful night, as does Firnen._

Eragon sent a mental acknowledgement to her as he walked along with Laetri. "May I ask a question, Eragon-elda?" enquired Laetri softly, her lustrous waist-length hair shining in the moonlight. Eragon shook his head, looking amused.

"Laetri, I wish you would not be so formal with me. The rest of the Nine call me Eragon in private but you have steadfastly refused to do so for many years. If anything, I should be the one respecting you for your life, knowledge and achievements" said Eragon ruefully.

"Was what you said to her Majesty true? Do you truly feel that way about me?" asked Laetri, looking at him with wide eyes. Eragon took her hand in both of his, both their figures silhouetted in the bright light of the moon.

"It is true. You are that precious to me, Laetri" he said in a grateful voice. "I will never forget what you did to save my mind from its destruction. You are an elfin woman whose beauty, power and goodness I am truly glad to have by my side. Truly glad indeed…" he said, squeezing her hand and letting go. Laetri's eyes widened even more as she looked away, her lovely face looking all the more beautiful in the moonlight.

They walked in silence to their tree, and leisurely up the steps into the large quarters. Sahloknir and Saphira were both already present, looking at their Riders curiously.

_What happened, Ebrithil? _Asked Sahloknir. _**Yes 'Ebrithil', what happened?**_Enquired Saphira playfully. They got a rush of images and feelings from their Riders that conveyed the happenings to them. The Riders of Aiedail hid nothing from their Dragons, absolutely nothing. It was Oromis' greatest lesson and Eragon his disciple had followed it to the letter.

_I see…I am glad we mean so much to you, Ebrithil _said Sahloknir. Eragon felt a deep sense of approval emanating from Saphira, and turned as he heard Laetri call his name. She looked directly into his eyes, conveying an emotion so deep and pure that he could not truly place or understand it. He had a suspicion what it could be, though.

The loss in his soul flared as he realized he could not return it. _**Oh, Eragon…it is love, little one. It is love. Can you still not remember how it feels? Can you still not understand?**_ Asked Saphira sorrowfully. Even after all these years, he could not remember or grasp it.

Eragon gasped slightly as Saphira kept hold of him tightly in mind, not letting him drift off into another haze of torment. Laetri glided up to him, and kissed him softly on his cheek.

"You mean the same to me…_Eragon_" she said, using his first name after a long, long time. Eragon smiled and inclined his head to her, before heading back to his own down-filled bed. Already he was healing for he could somewhat limit the pain of his soul.

Not by much, but it was enough. Alagaesia, it seemed, was already aiding him.

….

"Are you sure about this decision, your Majesty? Please remember, you took the Yawe and that has its obligations. You must serve our people no matter your personal desires or requirements" said Dathedr silkily. Arya sheathed her sword in a fluid motion, not looking troubled in the slightest.

"Lord Dathedr, my decision is made. I am serving my people in my own way, even now. The Yawe is being honoured, have no doubt" she said calmly. Dathedr looked at her with a discerning expression for a moment, and then inclined his head in acquiescence. The council was informed and arrangements were made already, so there would be no vacuum in the chain of command.

"So be it, Majesty. You have my wishes for a safe and fruitful journey" he said. Arya thanked him and broke into a run. As Firnen swooped downwards, she jumped high into the air and seated herself gracefully upon the saddle.

As they flew like an arrow loosed from the bow, Arya felt a sense of freedom and purpose she had not felt for many a year. Firnen roared mightily as they flew high above Du Weldenvarden, the forest appearing like a uniform sprinkling of shining emeralds.

Her heart soared as she saw eight Dragons flying towards her, with Saphira in the forefront. Eragon raised his hand in greeting, and she responded in kind. Roran she saw was seated behind Eragon, his face a study in wonder.

She laughed in delight as she flew with her brethren with unrestrained happiness.

With no hesitation, she joined minds with her fellow Riders immediately. The nine Riders merged minds like rivers flowing down to meet the sea, as did the Dragons. Once again she stood in awe at the sheer vastness and force of Eragon's intellect… it was just otherworldly. Even the other Riders refrained from immersing themselves in that mind for too long, for fear of losing themselves.

_We Ride together to the place, your Majesty. The others will leave us there, for they have their own tasks, _said Eragon's voice in their minds, pure and strong. _We fly once more in Alagaesian skies, Riders! _He said with pride in his voice, and the Dragons roared once more in unison as all of them shot towards the south, the reverberation shaking the very skies.

The speed of their flight was such that within hours they had reached _Du Fells Nangoroth. _The land of ancient Dragon heritage called out to Eragon intimately, and he bade them to land in the clearing. The ground was cleared completely of all debris and dust at the impact of nine Dragons landing in perfect circular formation.

The Riders alighted in unison, gathering in the centre of the circle of their Dragons. Arya looked at Eragon with an expression of recognition. "This is the place, Eragon. Here we found young Ismira's guards slain and strewn"

Eragon nodded slightly. "Nuada, you shall need to bear gifts for the King Palencar from me will you not?" he asked the elf. Nuada was the politician among his Nine, having been a close advisor of the Elven royal line for centuries.

"It is advisable, Eragon-elda" agreed Nuada.

Arya watched curiously as Eragon closed his eyes and began a song of power. The air around him rippled slightly as the ground cracked with a sharp report and produced a beautiful branch of the rarest teak, which shaped itself beautifully into a longbow of stunning make. Eragon caught the bow in his right hand, and extended his left over the ground.

"_Arget" _said Eragon fine dust particles to rise everywhere around them, as far as they could see. Then with a rushing sound they coalesced into a mass of dust, which slowly began to shine brightly.

The Riders watched knowingly as Eragon extracted Silver with such ease, but Arya was stunned. She always saw Eragon as the overeager but good-hearted boy who had managed to save them all, but every time he did something like this...the surprise was as fresh as the very first time.

The silver sphere split into several pieces, forming guards and adornments for the bow Eragon had sung. One piece of silver stretched itself so fine a thread that Arya was sure Eragon was imbuing it with magic, watching as it became a taut string for the bow.

As Eragon passed his hand over the bow, uttering words of power it shone a bright white that dimmed gradually. Holding out the bow to Nuada, Eragon asked curiously: "This bow will not break, and an arrow fired from it will not miss its mark. Do you deem it an adequate gift, Nuada?"

Roran was thoroughly impressed despite himself. He had been with Elves for many years now, and had managed to pick up a fair understanding of magic. No elf he had seen could use magic with such ease and grace, no one.

Nuada smiled faintly, and closed his eyes. Nocking an arrow of his own to the newly sung bow, he drew the string to his ear and shot high into the air. The arrow soared into the sky for a great distance, the assembled Riders following its path curiously.

They could faintly see it hit a vulture about to prey on a helpless bird with considerable force, actually severing the head of the predator from its body. Arya applauded with delight, extremely impressed with Eragon's magical talent.

_That was excellent magic, was it not Firnen?_ She asked with happiness and pride, feeling Firnen's agreement. Saphira spoke in all their minds wryly, admonishing Eragon: _**Little one, why don't you stop showing off, and send Nuada and the others on their way? It was after all you who insisted that they ride, and not go by your spell of Transportation. They must leave soon when the day is still young.**_

Domiel and Ragnar chuckled deeply, as did Cirnathor. Eragon managed to look slightly abashed as he turned to Ildarien: "Do not lose contact with Yaela, Ildarien, and report regularly. Look after young Barristan, everybody" he added mischievously. Ildarien nodded seriously despite Barristan's squawk of protest.

Eragon laughed a full laugh and the sunlight seemed to get purer, and birds burst into song in all directions. Arya watched with amazement the bond Eragon shared with his Riders…this was the kind of comradeship she had been used to with the Varden.

Laetri too joined in the laughter, causing Barristan to blush a flaming red. The young Rider, thought Arya, was much like Eragon himself was in his youth. He possessed a kind of pure innocence Eragon himself had had when she had first met him.

"Leave him alone, Ebrithil" said Leya in a scolding tone causing Eragon to raise his hands in surrender. Isidar and Sahloknir rumbled impatiently, causing them to focus on the matter at hand.

"I bid you a safe journey, my students. Fly safe to Illirea and tell the King I will meet with him after I finish here" he said in a solemn voice as Ildarien and the others mounted their Dragons. _Goodbye my friends. Journey safely and well_ echoed Eragon's voice in the minds of Isidar, Ragnar, Cirnathor and Domiel as they bore their riders away towards Illirea…eventually becoming specks of light.

Eragon turned to Arya, Laetri and Thorv. "Let us begin our search" said Eragon calmly, walking towards the caves of Du Fells Nangoroth. _Follow us in the air, if you please _said Eragon to the Dragons. Saphira sent him her acknowledgement, drifting effortlessly into the air with the others.

As the caves came into sight, Eragon raised his hand and called for a pause. "Brace yourselves, everyone. I mean in mind, for I will use the _Word_."

"Will that not negate all traces in the area, Eragon?" questioned Arya curiously. "I assume that will make our task much harder" she said in a certain voice. Laetri shook her head: "If used with skill, the _Word_ can be used to wipe magic from the area selectively as the caster desires. Eragon-elda will be able to bring out traces of magic cast even hundreds of years ago" she explained.

"Laetri is right. If we are lucky, I can…" said Eragon, signalling to the two women to brace themselves. His bright indigo eyes shone even brighter as he stood tall and only whispered the _Word_.

The effect was instantaneous. Arya slumped slightly as something _twisted_ the magic that surrounded them, sending a ripple that was not physical…but was something that they felt in their minds. Morgothal shook his head as if shaking off a gnat, and Sahloknir growled.

Eragon's eyes were distant as he quested for something only he could understand, as he guided the Name of Names to search for a century-old magical trace. He walked slowly forwards with that same distant look in his eyes, and knelt down on one knee.

He looked at Arya and Laetri, and said: "Here. I can feel it faintly, magic of a most malicious kind… intertwined with a familiar magic I _know_ to be Ismira's. What took my niece was nothing to be trifled with"

Arya and Laetri watched with growing concern as the Lead Rider placed his hands upon the ground and whispered: _"Deloi"_. A visible ripple spread gently in a circular pattern, growing and rushing outward in an ever expanding shape. Eragon had pushed his magic through the very earth, seeking and searching in ways not known to elves.

After a few minutes of this he stood up slowly and turned to face Laetri. High above them Saphira and Firnen roared with rage, responding to Eragon's sorrow which was clearly visible upon his face.

"I know this magic" he said with a downcast voice. "I know it well, and I have not forgotten who it embodies. Its evil calls out to me like nothing else…but how could such a thing enter these hallowed woods?" he asked himself in an occupied voice.

"What took my daughter, Eragon?" bit out Roran in scarce concealed anger. Laetri looked at him uncertainly, concerned at Eragon's dark contemplation. Eragon held up his hand firmly, causing Roran to grit his teeth in anger and impatience.

"No, Saphira. It cannot be. Unless…" Eragon's eyes widened as he murmured "I see. Yes, that would do it. That would allow them to enter this forest despite the wards that protect it. It is a good thing I am here, then. Ismira may be lost to us-" he murmured in a soft voice, a singular tear sliding down his cheek.

Roran rushed forward and caught Eragon's arm tightly, forcing his cousin to look at him. "She-is-not-lost!" he snarled in a desperate voice. Eragon now looked at them fully, his face showing wisdom and authority as he commanded the Dragons to land immediately.

_I must contemplate upon this more_, he said to all of them by mind. _Thorv, set up camp. I need to meditate more upon this…you will have answers by tonight. I must be certain of what I have discovered. I must be sure of my conclusions…there is no room for error._ _We stay here for now_.

Arya watched with a heavy heart as Eragon sat down in a meditative position, closing his eyes serenely. Roran looked like he wanted to shake his cousin, but Laetri stopped him with a single look.

"You must wait, Roran Stronghammer. Do not disturb him for he is consulting with the _Eldunari_. He will have answers for us, as he said" she berated him gently yet certainly. Arya nodded and joined Laetri in setting up camp in that clearing.

As the Dragons landed around them, Roran stared hard at his cousin. Even after all these years, his heart bled for his youngest child…little Ismira who had brightened seven years of his life.

Controlling his rapidly rising impatience and anxiety, he joined to help the others. He was never one to let ladies toil while he lolled, be they elven or human; certainly not ladies as noble as Laetri and Arya.

….

"_Brisingr"_

The fire burned merrily at Laetri's command, lending them much needed heat as they made to sit around Eragon who was looking at them with a grave expression. Even Laetri had not seen him look this concerned or sad for a very long time now, and she was worried at what he would say.

The dragons laid around them leisurely, observing them with their bright eyes. Eragon began in a serious voice.

"I have drawn my conclusion with the help of my mentors and my own knowledge" he said. "I have concluded upon who took Ismira and how"

"Well, out with it!" ordered Roran firmly. Thorv looked at him admonishingly but he did not seem to care as he met Eragon's gaze. Eragon closed his eyes for a moment.

_**Tell them, Little one. Postponing will do no good**_, came Saphira's advice. Eragon opened his eyes and declared : "I am intimately familiar with their unholy magics, having fought two of them in my youth. I was not certain in the morning but after long hours of deliberation and consideration I am now sure."

He looked around slowly at all of them, impressing upon every one the gravity of his deduction.

"Ismira was taken by a Shade"

Arya gasped in fear and Firnen made a loud keening noise. Laetri closed her eyes in sadness and regret, and Thorv cursed violently in the Dwarven tongue. But Roran seemed struck…staring deep into the distance. His little daughter was taken by… a, a _Shade?_

"You are lying, ERAGON!" screamed Roran suddenly, flinging himself upon his cousin with a raised fist. Eragon only looked at him, his indigo coloured eyes flaring slightly. Roran was pushed back gently and held firmly by magic. Tears of anguish and regret fell down his slightly lined face as his mind shuddered back from imagining what would have befallen his daughter.

His daughter…

Eragon spoke once more, his words horrifying them further. "But such a thing would not _dare_ enter this forest for the wards that guard it are ancient and powerful beyond imagining. But I am certain it was a Shade, as is Umaroth-elda. That fact cannot be doubted"

Arya began to feel fear and a dark foreboding she had not felt since the war. Thorv only kept on cursing fervently but Laetri only watched Eragon attentively. The Dragons were absolutely silent, but their angry thoughts washed across their minds like lava.

"We must ask ourselves this question, then. How did it get in so far?" asked Eragon, looking at them as if searching for answers. His eyes fixed themselves upon Arya's as he saw the elven Queen begin to come to the same conclusion as he had.

"No Shade possesses the power to overwhelm these wards by themselves, even if _they_ studied it for a hundred years or more. This means there is only one answer to our conundrum"

A faint hint of disgust appeared upon his noble face as he spoke, and Saphira's rage made them shiver.

"The Shade is of the Elven race"


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for the reviews, everyone! I am enlivened greatly by your positive reception. Thank you for reading!**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 6

Emptiness echoed through the ornate throne room of Illirea, the seat of power for the current Royal line. History weighed down upon its occupant like a dread taskmaster as always, prompting him not to commit the mistakes of its past occupants.

King Palencar sat on the throne…a throne hundred years ago occupied by the dark tyrant, Galbatorix. He wore silver Chain-mail, crafted for him by the Elves more than half a century ago, and stood as tall as Queen Arya. "The Shining King" they called him, the humans and dwarves, for his valour and courage at the battle of Ithro Zhada five years into his reign.

Dark thoughts occupied his mind as he stared at the empty throne room, empty but for his trusted advisor. Barden was a skilled mage and had risen to this rank from the lowest of levels through sheer grit and determination.

Appreciation and acknowledgement ran through the old king as he thought of his mother's reforms. Nasuada had been a ray of hope that brought much needed peace and stability to the nations, her dedication and sacrifice had won her great renown and appreciation among all races.

Her philosophy of competence and merit triumphing over privileges of birth was the centrepiece of her rule…and Palencar still could not believe the peace and harmony that existed in Alagaesia thanks to her work. Nasuada, Daughter of Ajihad, had in many ways kept the spirit of the Varden alive for the duration of her rule.

"Majesty, are you quite fine?" questioned Barden gruffly, causing Palencar to shift his attention to the magician hoping it would be more tidings of the Rider Eragon. Even at his advanced age happiness bloomed in his heart at the tidings Lord Almen had sent him…Eragon was someone he had no hope of meeting in his lifetime, long though it extended.

"Yes, Barden. What matter did you wish to discuss with me?" asked Palencar, not showing his eagerness too much. Playing the game of politics was second nature to him just like it was to his mother. Barden's slightly lined face leaked its joy as he stood up straighter.

"We have much awaited visitors, your Majesty. Four Riders approach Illirea with a request for your audience. They spoke in the ancient tongue, and were sent by Eragon Kingslayer. Nuada, the elven rider I spoke to was certain they would arrive in three days…and requested permission to land."

However, great though his joy was at the fact that the Kingslayer had returned he could not help but wonder why he had done so. According to his mother, he had exiled himself from Alagaesia essentially resolving not to return. But Riders were welcome in the land, nevertheless.

"They have my permission, Barden. Do make the required preparations" he said, causing Barden to nod. Perhaps now, he would be able to see the prowess of the Riders with his own eyes. Their support was needed to drive the Urgals back…his Urgal counterpart Nar Garzhvog was extremely worried at the bloodlust awakening in his kinsmen. Palencar could understand the situation well, Nasuada had told him of the warlike but honourable nature of the Urgals at length. King Orik's words came to him from many years ago, back when he was a youth.

"_Young Palencar, Nasuada might respect the beasts…Guntera bless, even I respect that old ram Nar Garzhvog. Truth is, I think they will have to be contained again. Arya also worries about the same thing, you know? She worries the bond will need many more years to temper their warlike nature…they are like vermin"_

Dwarves hated Urgals, true. But the fact was that Orik had spoken a hard truth. Until such a time as their bloodlust decreased the Urgals were a race to be wary of. They had begun creating chaos across the spine, even intruding into Carvahall not a month ago. That was something his people could not stand…an insult they could never take lying down. Nor could he, for no one would let the land from which Eragon Shadeslayer was born to be besmirched by Urgals or anyone else.

"We may need to teach those Urgals a little lesson" said Palencar finally. "Nar Garzhvog has admitted to his inability to control the rams, and I have to finally take direct action. Attacking Carvahall was the worst thing they could have done. The Riders are arriving at a good time, old friend. Is the Kingslayer with them?"

Barden shook his head with open regret, and Palencar understood how he felt. If the Kingslayer were here then he had no doubt that the Urgal situation would be resolved with ease.

"He has business in Ellesmera, I believe, and the rider Ildarien was certain he would join us after it is done" said Barden. Palencar acquiesced, both of them falling silent. There was much to be done and said before the Kingdom returned to its previous state of peace. Though the Urgals were the only ones in open conflict, Palencar knew well that there were too many secret uprisings to count in the Kingdom. He had ruled for many years but his reign was becoming wearying to him. His life was long because of his father, but he was still human with all the concerns of one.

"What of the guild of magicians at Aroughs? Their outrageous actions still never fail to irritate me. The only reason I am not crushing them is because Trianna is leading them…mother and Trianna were comrades in every sense of the word. I don't want to raise my hand against her! Nor do I want to quell cruelly the Surdan border trouble…Barden, this land is fraught with history and emotions beyond one man's grasp. I cannot be seen as another Galbatorix in my actions to subdue my foes" he lamented at last.

"The Riders are here at last, Majesty" said Barden solemnly, grasping his King's hand in a show of support. "They are here and your neutrality will no longer need to be compromised. Every race in Alagaesia will defer to Eragon Darksbane, of this there is no doubt. Take heart, your Majesty"

Palencar nodded gravely, steeling himself. Barden was right, they were here. He was strong enough as a King to subdue his enemies but these were times that needed careful consideration. The smallest sense of tyranny could spark chaos unknown, and he did _not_ want to ignite it.

If the Riders had returned, there was one thing left to be done. Palencar stood up strode out regally towards his quarters.

"Old friend, I would appreciate it if you could contact King Orik for me. Though he seems intent on receiving the Kingslayer in Tronjheim, I am of the opinion that we should gather here at Illirea. I have a feeling that Illirea will once again be the place of convergence for all the races. Set up a scrying arrangement, I need to speak to him at once"

Barden nodded and followed his King.

….

"Did you not sleep, Eragon?"

Eragon turned with a sigh to face Arya, who looked at him with concern. He shook his head with a preoccupied expression. The existence of the Elven Shade had caused him great disquiet, especially the deductions of the previous night. Arya slowly came to stand beside him, both of them watching the sunset in tranquillity.

"I do not require the trance or sleep anymore, Your Majesty" said Eragon in a distant tone as the first rays of the sun washed over them. "I can sleep if I wish, certainly, but I do not need it anymore. I can go for years without such distractions. A consequence of what my students call 'my sacrifice'"

"I…see" said Arya in an unreadable tone, looking down for a moment. The sounds of the others' awakening reached them, causing Eragon to sigh again and move towards the camp. There were many decisions to be made and those decisions would have to be made with the representatives of all the races present, for all races had a part in this.

"Eragon, would you like to hear my true name?" asked Arya softly, breaking him out of his reverie. Surprise bloomed on his face as he heard the offer of the Elven Queen. He had no doubt that her true name had changed from all those years ago, so his inability to utter that name was invalid.

_He will not, _resounded a strong voice in their minds as Laetri made her way through the foliage towards them, looking beautiful in robes of silver and white.

_I will not allow it. The consequences will be too dire for Eragon-elda. It might very well break him to pieces once more if the name conveys certain truths._

Arya's eyes narrowed as she considered Laetri, who was standing beside Eragon with a firm expression. It appeared that she resented the intrusion of privacy, though she kept a calm demeanour.

"This does not concern you, Laetri. We are simply re-affirming a bond we created a century ago, well before all this occurred. I would appreciate your distance from this matter" she said, staring at Laetri for her strange behaviour.

"I will _not_ distance myself, your Majesty. Eragon and I are bound in ways you do not yet understand. I can feel his pain every time you resurrect the love you once shared… you just do not understand, I am afraid, and I cannot blame you. The pain he feels will one day destroy him completely, and it is triggered by the void of what he once felt for you. I will not let you deepen that void with the absolute truths your name may contain!" she said in a clear voice, causing Arya to recoil slightly.

"I am sorry, your Majesty. She is right because the truths of your name might very well break me a second time. You will understand why if you think about just what it is that I sacrificed…" said Eragon sadly.

She had no choice but to accept, for they spoke exclusively in the ancient language. Eragon's eyes filled with a pity she could not stand, not even with Firnen soothing her from within. A memory flashed through her mind like an arrow, the memory of the Blood-oath celebration so long ago.

The memory of when she broke Eragon's heart for the greater good of the free races…she could understand exactly the suffering he had undergone. Whatever his reasons, refusing to hear her name was a refusal of the greatest trust she could offer him. It was possibly the greatest rejection he could make towards her, the rejection to know the essence of her being.

_Be strong for now, Arya _came Firnen's soothing voice accompanied by feelings of companionship and support. Arya looked at Laetri, through whose eyes ran several emotions. She knew Laetri had heard Firnen speak to her.

"I understand" she said with a slight smile, but knew that Laetri was not fooled. Nor was Eragon apparently, for he stared at her with pain-filled eyes. He stood in front of her, staring right into her eyes as if he could actually see the essence of her.

_Beautiful._

That was the one word that fit Eragon now after all these years. His shining Indigo eyes drew her in like the elven saturnalias and from this proximity she could see the faint radiance of his skin that seemed as if it were lit from within. He reminded her more than ever of Oromis, and memories of Vrael she had seen from her advisors.

"You _must_ understand the reason" whispered Eragon in her ear, causing her to shiver slightly. "After the sacrifice I can return your love with only loss and pain. I _see_ what you feel for me. If you utter it in the old tongue the truth of it will be inescapable for me. The loss that will rear up in me in response will most likely drive me irrevocably insane."

Arya felt tears building, and felt shame at that. She did not cry, not when Durza tortured her, not very much when her mother died, not even when Eragon left her. But after a hundred years, her love for Eragon had grown like the vines of her home and had essentially become a part of her being.

She could see Laetri's sympathy as she looked at her. Eragon continued relentlessly, every word causing her a sharp pain she could not put into words.

"You must therefore let me go as you let me go during the Agaeti Blodhren. The way you did after the war and other countless occasions…you must do it. My Saphira comes before all else, as do the Riders" he said and the pain of his words actually caused Arya to falter.

_Is this what he felt after I rejected him at the Agaeti Blodhren? This...agony is too much. Firnen…Firnen please come to me!_

_I am coming, Arya _she heard Firnen say urgently. Not even her Dragon could shield her from the cruel words Eragon spoke, and she looked at him as if seeing him for the very first time. Unshed tears shone in her eyes and she saw Eragon falter at the sight before composing himself.

"You understand duty better than me. You were the one who taught me it's true import" said Eragon softly, still not breaking away from their stare. That statement caused her to lower her eyes, a single tear sliding down her flawless cheek. But there was no reproach in Eragon's tone, just a request.

"I hold duty in the same regard as you do. I choose it above all else. You must forget what existed between us, your Majesty. This is all I ask of you. Our friendship shall remain, however, if you wish it" he said and Arya knew he too was thinking of how their situations were being reversed back from the war. The worst part was that they now spoke only in the ancient language and the truth branded her like hot irons.

Having said his words, Eragon stared into her eyes a moment longer. "I am truly sorry for my words. I will leave you alone now, your Majesty" he said with pure sadness in his voice as he turned about to join the others. Laetri stared at Arya a moment longer with the deepest sympathy in her eyes.

Then she too left, and Arya knelt down on the forest ground slowly with burning agony in her heart. _Why am I affected this way?_ she whispered as she felt Firnen land beside her and envelop her with one wing. She truly did feel a deep pain in her chest, throbbing in time with the beat of her heart.

_Arya, you have me. You will ALWAYS have me, my Shur'tugal. Always, _he said in his rich and deep voice as Arya shed tears of anguish for what was lost forever. Not since Faolin's death had she felt this pain…this pain that literally shattered her.

The Elven mask of control broke as she shed silent tears within the canopy of Firnen's protective wing. No one could console her as Eragon's words played through her mind like memories of Durza's tortures, each time breaking something in her heart.

_Firnen, I hurt…I hurt so much!_

…..

Eragon stood next to Saphira five hours later as he addressed his companions. The previous night's discussions had alarmed them all to no end, letting loose an undercurrent of tension among the group. This was further amplified when he saw Arya and Firnen standing a little aloofly from them.

_**You did hurt her this morning, Eragon. No doubt it was necessary but you hurt her terribly. She needs to be this way, **_came Saphira's regretful voice. Eragon shook his head…there was little he could have done differently. This was the least painful path for them all, for he could not have his personal flaws endanger his Order.

Already he saw Arya's demeanour changing back to what it once was, to what he remembered from Farthen Dur. He knew Arya was a strong person and would recover soon enough, her sense of obligation would not allow for anything else.

"From here we should tread carefully, for we are going down a path that has been erased for a hundred years. After considering all alternatives I have come to a single conclusion" he said in a composed voice. They waited patiently for his answer. Eragon looked once at Saphira and continued:

"We must talk to the Spirits"

It was silent for a time, silent as the grave. Then a low rumble seemed to emanate from the throat of every dragon except Saphira, joining to form a menacing sound. Sahloknir glared at him with his brilliant golden eyes, displeasure leaking off him.

_Foolishness. I will not let you do such a thing, Ebrithil. I will NOT let you face those abominations ever again!_ Said Sahloknir with rage. Arya seemed to look at Firnen for a moment, before fixing her gaze on him.

"You were always difficult, Eragon. But this is new even for you" she said in a condescending tone. Eragon sighed as Laetri too supported their words with fierce eyes, as did Thorv.

"Madness"

"Foolishness, indeed"

He raised his hand, causing them to fall quiet. Staring each of them in the eyes he declared, "We have no other option I am afraid. It is likely that Spirits would know about other Spirits, and it is the fastest way of garnering information. Shades are a serious matter to all races of this land, and I am sure that a single summoning will yield valuable information"

"And who will summon them?" questioned Thorv curiously. Eragon looked him square in the eyes with a hint of his resolve showing.

"I will"

Laetri slowly walked up to him, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. Arya accompanied her and Eragon only stared bemused as a princess and queen of Ellesmera bore down upon him. _**Eragon, you need to convince them. Oh and be careful, Laetri might slap you**_, said his Dragon in an amused voice.

He just stared as Laetri slapped him hard, looking at him with shining eyes. Arya seemed like she really wanted to as well but she seemingly restrained herself.

He heard Thorv and Morgothal guffawing quietly in the background, and even sensed Firnen's amusement. Sahloknir looked like he would also slap Eragon if he had hands, which made Saphira's laughter in his mind increase.

"I will stop you if you try to summon those things by yourself, Eragon!" said Laetri in a sharp voice. Eragon supposed he should have foreseen it…Laetri was extremely protective of him, just like the others of the Nine. He was not surprised, for after what had happened between them it was only natural. When it came to sorcery, Laetri protected him like a mother hen.

Saphira snorted at the comparison, and then turned to Laetri. Her Rider was no fool to undertake such a task on a whim and she would make sure they understood that.

_**Eragon knows the dangers, Laetri. After all it was you who taught him sorcery. You know how proficient he is at that art, do you not?**_Asked Saphira, her voice echoing in all their minds. Arya turned to Laetri with a furious look.

"After all that has happened, you taught him sorcery?"

"It was necessary" said Laetri shortly. She seemed to be considering deeply as she stared at Eragon. Sahloknir seemed to hum in agreement as Laetri turned to Eragon with a look of resolve.

"We will summon together, then. Only then will I consent to this madness" she said in a certain voice. Arya too stepped forward, holding his gaze like she used to during his youth.

"I will join the two of you. These past centuries have seen me learn much, and I am also proficient at sorcery" she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Eragon just shook his head._ Let one pounce, and they will all pounce_ he thought ruefully, feeling Saphira's agreement. And maybe this would distract Arya even slightly from the pain he had caused her. He made his decision. This had to be done soon as possible.

"I agree. We summon them tonight. Thorv, you and the Dragons must stand guard, for the summoning of spirits is a confluence of powerful magics. We cannot be interrupted at any point" he said. Thorv nodded, still grinning at Laetri.

As if on cue, Eragon turned to Laetri incredulously, rubbing his cheek. "You…you _slapped_ me?" he asked her in an amazed tone. Laetri stared at him for a moment, holding his disbelieving gaze. The laughter of the dragons and Thorv seemed to make the earth thrum slightly, and even Arya's mouth twitched upward slightly.

_This is the way I remember him_, she thought sadly to Firnen as she saw hints of the innocent youth Eragon had been surface. She had to supress the cutting angst that surfaced at this thought, using Firnen's composure and assurance like an anchor.

Eragon's incredulity increased as Laetri's pale and flawless cheeks became tinged with pink as she stared determinedly at the floor. Foreign feelings stirred in him faintly as he saw Laetri blushing like a rose, feelings he thought he did not understand at all.

"I…I am sorry. I was afraid" she said faintly as she laid a hand on his cheek and healed him immediately. Eragon's eyes grew wide as he saw the look in Laetri's eyes again, the look Saphira had told him was love. He slowly took her hand in his own, for the very first time appreciating its flawless softness. _She looks so…so pure, _he thought to himself. He turned to find Arya looking at them both with emotionless eyes, and cursed himself for his insensitivity.

Despite the pain contact with Arya would cause him, he extended his hand to her as well. Arya hesitantly stepped forward and put her hand in Eragon's. Eragon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, opening them only when he felt the massive rush of support from Sahloknir, Saphira and Laetri soothe his tearing soul.

He thought he saw tears in Arya's eyes for just a moment before she controlled herself.

"Thorv, ready yourself. Let us begin the summoning immediately. Spirits are best summoned with daylight" he said, not letting go of Laetri and Arya. He merged their minds with the fringes of his, letting them know at the speed of thought his plans for the summoning. A few seconds later, he looked around holding them all with a serious gaze.

"Do you understand?" he asked Arya and Laetri gravely. They nodded and squeezed his hands tightly as Saphira and Sahloknir nudged him lightly with their snouts. "I will find Roran" he said and closed his eyes.

He closed his eyes, questing for Roran who he was told was hunting at the moment. He felt his cousin's awe as they touched minds.

_Come, Roran. We need you._

….

"It has been a long time since we crossed swords, Barristan" said Leya as she sipped the Faelnirv they had brought with them. They were on their way to Illirea and had obtained permission from the current king to make contact. The fact that it was their first assignment as Riders only increased their wariness, knowing that their obligations to the land exceeded even those to their kin.

"With good reason, Leya" snorted Barristan. "I have carefully avoided sparring with you for a year. You, Dusan and Alanna…I do not enjoy being defeated like a child. Only the Nine can hold their own with you three" he said, looking down at the ground. Leya sighed…Barristan was a very young human who tried his best. He was only now inheriting the strength and power of the Shur'tugal and that put him at a disadvantage over old Elves such as herself.

"Come now, young Barristan" said Nuada with twinkling eyes. Leya smiled…for some reason, Nuada seemed to like needling Barristan. "Who knows what might happen to you if you let your swordsmanship…_fade?"_. Ildarien did not even look at them, so absorbed was he in his tomes. With their master he was the soul of courtesy, but otherwise his dedication to magic did not allow him to do anything else. If Ildarien spoke a single word of his own volition, there would be a celebration in the halls of Aiedail.

"Ildarien, why don't _you_ fight Leya?" demanded Barristan hotly. "You are always buried in those books of yours! Just because Ebrithil said he was reminded of himself when he looked at your hunger to learn doesn't mean-"

"Oh, keep quiet" said Ildarien, annoyed. "Ebrithil and the Nine said I have the potential to be a great mage, and I will not let them down. And I think I will take you up on your offer" he said calmly drawing his sword with a steely rasp. The grey blade shone slightly in the sunlight_._

Barristan grinned slightly and drew his own blade. _Hah! I got that elf to fight me at least for once. I'll teach him!_ He thought triumphantly to himself. He could feel Cirnathor rolling his eyes _Idiot, Ildarien is Blodhgarm-elda's apprentice in swordplay. Do not underestimate him, or you might find yourself learning the same lesson Alanna taught you last year._

Leya looked at her fellow Riders who had forgotten about her so easily, and smiled inside. In Aiedail, Elves had shed much of their cold nature and had opened themselves to emotions. She could not imagine herself being back in Silthrim and playing the convoluted games of her people.

Before the two combatants could begin, they felt Eragon's mind reach theirs, vast like an ocean. Barristan's face took on a look of petulance before it settled into respectful deference.

_Having fun, Barristan and Ildarien_? asked their master in an amused voice. Everyone could feel that even that amusement had strain in it and wondered what had happened. They could feel a strange confluence of three minds with their masters'.

_Yes, I have joined minds slightly with Laetri and the elven Queen. Ildarien,_ he addressed the Rider who had sheathed his blade regretfully. _Can you follow the trail of my thought like I taught you?_

_Yes, Ebrithil. _

_Then open a scrying mirror to my location. We have important news for you, all of you. And Barristan…you can spar later. This is very important._

Barristan flushed, realizing he had been broadcasting his thoughts everywhere. _I apologize, Ebrithil._

Ildarien had closed his eyes, and using the thought trail of their master had opened a scrying portal in the air wordlessly. Eragon stood tall within a circle of the four Dragons and Thorv, all of whom seemed to be guarding him from something. Nuada joined them along with their Dragons as Eragon stared straight at them with a grave look, as did Laetri and Queen Arya.

"I have found out what took my niece, Ismira. Listen carefully, you must know the truth if this does not go well. I uncovered traces of…" began their master, garnering their utmost attention. As he went on with his findings their faces grew all the more horrified…what had happened to the land during their absence?

"Elven Shade?" whispered Nuada quietly. "None of my brethren would _ever_ consent to housing such abominations!" he snarled, and Leya nodded emphatically. Not in a thousand years would their kind willingly host spirits in their body. They did study sorcery, but the care taken was always high.

Through the scrying screen they saw Eragon's silver hair whip around in an unseen wind as he looked at them with burning eyes of Indigo. "You understand the gravity of the situation. I will summon spirits and talk to them, for I need knowledge about what is happening among them. I wish for you to watch the ceremony" he said.

Ildarien saw his master holding the hands of both the Queen and Laetri-elda, and wondered what that implied. _Concentrate, there will be time for such thoughts later_ came the voice of his Dragon. Eragon and the women closed their eyes and began an advanced incantation of sorcery.

Ildarien's eyes widened in horror at the incantation, his master was summoning spirits that were suited to occupy a Shade. As they watched through Scrying, they saw the daylight in the arena dim enormously and clouds gather like a pall of gloom. Shadows were cast that were so dark that it almost seemed like night. Eragon's eyes were literally glowing as he completed the incantation in a calm voice, though Laetri and Arya were panting slightly.

The Dragons roared as one as a towering wall of light rose up with a roar from the ground to the sky, full of blinding colours. _I must speak to them_, said Eragon in a calm voice and let go of Arya and Laetri, striding forwards fearlessly.

Ildarien and the others had never seen their master use magic on such a scale, containing spirits with such skill. As they watched with frantic eyes, Eragon calmly approached the tower of multicolored lights and laid a hand on it. The light that erupted from that contact was so bright that it forced them to close their eyes, even the Elves.

Through the mental connection, Ildarien felt the otherworldly power of the spirits trying to break out but they were constrained well. Pride ran through him as he studied through the scrying wall the imprisonment his master had cast temporarily.

A few moments later the painfully bright light dimmed and they saw their master standing with eyes closed, the daylight restored completely. Laetri had fallen unconscious from whatever effects and Arya as well. The Dragons were however intact and they saw Firnen nudge Arya urgently. Sahloknir was glaring at the place where the spirits had disappeared, looking as if he wanted to destroy them on the spot.

A large depression was upon the site of the summoning. Eragon opened his eyes and whispered a spell, causing Arya to wake up along with Laetri.

"Ebrithil?" asked Barristan anxiously, causing Eragon to turn to them with a grave expression. "Ebrithil, are you alright?" asked Barristan worriedly. It was over within seconds, but the venture had been beyond risky.

"Laetri-elda, how could you allow this?" questioned Ildarien of a recovered Laetri. Laetri shook her head, "When he wants something done truly, I cannot stop him. He is stubborn"

Leya and Nuada sighed as one. They knew that fact all too well. Their master's tenacity and determination were enormous.

"Shadeslayer, your cousin is sleeping" came the voice of Thorv who had dragged Roran Stronghammer to the small gathering. Arya had stroked Firnen's snout, and was staring directly at the scrying mirror.

"Were any of you harmed?" questioned the Queen. Nuada shook his head, "We were unharmed. My Queen, you have grown considerably to have withstood such spirit-force" he said appreciatively. Arya shook her head, nodding to Eragon who was reviving Roran. The Dragons had gathered around the Riders in a circle, and seemed to be deep in conversation with their Riders.

"Eragon, what happened" groaned Roran, rubbing his eyes. All the Riders and their Dragon turned their eyes on Eragon and Saphira who seemed to be engaged in mind-speech. After a few minutes of that, Eragon turned to them with seriously.

"I have gleaned much from that conversation. The Elven Shade walks the land even now. He has apparently been walking it for a very long time now" he said amidst gasps of surprise. Things were happening too fast for the Riders, faster than they could cope with. Arya spoke briefly with Eragon, who nodded to her. Barristan saw her walk slightly off from the group and wave her hand, creating a scrying surface with ease. Who she was contacting could not be seen.

Thorv was incanting a spell to do the same in another area. Eragon and Laetri looked at each other with a contemplating expression.

"You must be careful, all four of you" warned Eragon seriously. "You have all studied the nature of Shades, and you know of the danger they pose. An Elven Shade is probably even more dangerous. All I can say is request you to reach Illirea as soon as possible. Do not wander the land unless I am with you, do you understand?" he asked, with his eyes never leaving them.

They nodded, taking no offense at his caution.

"And if you meet Ismira, Rider of Belegroch…you are not to harm her under any circumstances. Is that clear?" he asked again, glancing at a depressed Roran. Laetri laid a hand on his arm, and he looked at Ildarien.

"If anything is amiss, reach me at once. We four will leave for Tronjheim tomorrow, for I need to meet with Orik" said Eragon. "I will brief you all later from Tronjheim. For now, you must make haste for Illirea" he said, cancelling the spell.

The four of them stared at each other. At the roar of Isidar, they soared into the air gracefully and mounted their Dragons. _Illirea it is, then_ echoed Ildarien's decisive voice in their minds as the Dragons sped towards their destination like arrows loosed from a bow.

….

It was night in the Beor range of mountains, and the Kostha Merna lake glinted softly in the moonlight. As a cold wind blew through the valley, the night sky was momentarily illuminated with a flash of Indigo light.

Standing on the doorstep of the entrance to Farthen Dur were Four Dragons and their Riders, staring impassively at the still concealed entrance to the mountain. Eragon stepped forward and said:

"Come forth, my kin. It is I, Eragon Shadeslayer; the first Knurla in all but blood, the brother of King Orik. Open your city to me!" he said in the ancient language, augmenting it with magic.

As the call echoed gently through the mountains, Arya sunk herself in deep thought. Since Eragon's return her slow world had been thrown out instead bringing in once more the desperation of the war. Her elven instinct thrummed in her veins, told her that these events were only a prelude to something in the future.

The races were headed towards eventual discord and nothing could stop it. Despite the influences of magic, they would all remain disparate. _I still cannot believe he singlehandedly restrained all those spirits, Firnen. Even Islanzadi would require the support of four other magicians to do that_, she broadcasted to Firnen.

_Perhaps it has to do with his unique state of mind_, suggested her green Dragon that flew above them with his fellows. She glanced upwards slightly to see the Dragon following them by air at a leisurely pace. The beautiful Kostha Merna Lake lay in front of them, wherein lay the entrance to Farthen Dur.

Eragon had insisted that they had little time to lose, that they could not afford to let fade the peace they had struggled for with so much. Using the strength of the Eldunari he had brought them instantly to the Dwarven mountain. The ride from the Hardarac, he said, would be fraught with unnecessary danger and would make them lose much time.

Thorv had been overjoyed when it was decided that their next destination was Tronjheim. Arya had no doubt they were going there for a reason beyond meeting with Orik, important though that was.

But she did not push for answers as she might have done before. Eragon was at least her equal in her status as queen, and above her as a Rider. She paused as Eragon called for a stop with a raised hand even as her supernatural senses picked out dwarven warriors coming out to meet them.

_Little two-legs are coming out, Ebrithil, _came the voice of Sahloknir. Eragon only stared at the assembling dwarf warriors with a smile. A dwarf wearing red chain mail stepped forward, and bowed deeply.

The hundred dwarven warriors knelt in respect for the Shadeslayer. Saphira snorted in the background. _**All this respect isn't good for you, Eragon**_she said, broadcasting her thoughts to all the Riders. Laetri and Arya smiled fully and Thorv grunted a short laugh.

"It is mine honour to welcome you once more to our mountain, Eragon Kingslayer, brother of our monarch. Your brother the King has awaited your arrival with great eagerness and the council has not left the throne room for the entire day in anticipation of your arrival. I am Shrrngien whom you may remember from the past" said the dwarf in a guttural voice. Eragon nodded, clasping Shrrngien's arm briefly.

"I remember, Shrrngien. Thank you for answering my call so promptly" he said in his curiously musical voice. Arya could only assume that it was his heritage as a Rider that had changed him so much in body…but it could also be the spirits. She inclined her head slightly as Shrrngien bowed to her deeply as well.

"Arya, Queen of Ellesmera, my King bids you welcome to Tronjheim. Too long has he pined for his comrades. It brings him great joy that you can visit him after so long a time" said Shrrngien with a grin. Arya too smiled faintly. Orik was someone she respected and liked, a first among dwarves. She, Nasuada and the dwarven King had changed Alagaesia and its races considerably.

"This is Laetri, princess of Ellesmera and Rider of Sahloknir" said Eragon, nodding to Laetri who also bent her head slightly in acknowledgement. Shrrngien bowed respectfully to her as well. "Thorv is your comrade after all"

"That he is" said Shrrngien, thumping Thorv on his back. "King Orik awaits your presence, Eragon Kingslayer. But for the Dragons, going through the tunnels might be an issue" said Shrrngien thoughtfully.

_We can enter through the open peak_, came the voice of Morgothal. Eragon shook his head: _No need, I can transport us the same way we came here. We must meet immediately with Orik to discuss diverse pressing matters_, his voice echoed through the minds of every one present.

"How are we then to enter Tronjheim, Shadeslayer?" questioned Shrrngien. Eragon raised his hand, and Arya prepared herself for the transportation spell. "By magic. Brace yourselves, all of you" said Eragon as light consumed their vision for an instant.

As it cleared, they stood once more in sight of the dwarven city of Tronjheim. _Your city's glory is undiminished_, praised Eragon to the dwarves who were shaken out of their surprise and were looking at Eragon in awe. Shrrgnien shook his head:

"Thank you, Shadeslayer. That was a strong spell you cast, but you _did_ slay Galbatorix after all" he said gruffly. Arya and Laetri walked by Eragon's side as the warriors and Riders followed behind them. As they entered Tronjheim, they saw the entire dwarven populace of that place gathered in front of them. Thousands of dwarves of all clans and trades watched as Eragon approached them with the Queen of the Elves and his Riders.

Arya watched as some dwarves actually shed tears in the silence that permeated the entire city. _He has become a symbol to the people. He is a legend to this land and its races, of all races and none of them…Eragon, you have become great_ thought Arya wistfully as they stopped in front of the congregation of thousands. The innocent boy of seventeen was gone forever as was the infatuated Rider drunk on elven magic.

With a great rushing sound, Tronjheim's people knelt as one to the legend as Saphira roared in exultation. The city itself seemed to bow down to him in respect as he raised a hand towards the opening in the peak, a single tear flowing down his face at the great gesture of the dwarven race.

"_Garjzla abr Evarinya" _

The words of Eragon's spell echoed through the city-mountain like the notes of an instrument, and Arya's eyes shone with moisture.

_Ebrithil_, she whispered to herself, understanding to her bones the meaning of that word as used by the Riders.

A shaft of the purest white light descended from the peak of Farthen Dur, bathing the entire city and its occupants in its benevolent glow. The dwarves gasped as the entirety of the mountain was lit by that otherworldly light, making the marble city shine like the most beautiful treasure.

A feeling of benediction and thanks echoed through the thousands of occupants of the mountain, a feeling of familiarity and homecoming. Eragon's voice echoed through their minds gently, causing eyes to widen as it slipped through even the most powerful mental protections.

_Thank you._


	7. Chapter 7

**Greetings, again! Your encouragement and excellent reviews have prompted me to update sooner than ever. Please keep up with the reviews, they are the greatest inspiration of all. Especially when people like my story. There is nothing quite like it!**

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 7

King Orik smiled as he heard Eragon's voice echo around the hill like the notes of a bell, and as the light flooded Tronjheim beautifully. Even the throne room was flooded by that light, deep though it was in the ground. Volund seemed to respond to Eragon's magic as it glowed slightly, causing Orik to frown slightly.

He could hear his people's rushing murmurs and his heart was made glad at the roars of Firnen and Saphira, Morgothal and another Dragon he did not recognize. Eragon left the land with little thanks for his great deed…but now he would understand just how much he meant to the free races of Alagaesia.

He smiled fully once more as he heard not the cheers of his subjects, but only a respectful and awed silence. They would be here soon. The keeper of the gates nodded to him as the enormous gates were thrown open, revealing a Rider clothed in pristine white robes in the forefront. Beside him was Arya, as beautiful as he remembered her and another elf he recognized as Laetri, a member of his original elven guard of twelve.

_**Greetings Orik**_**.**_** I am glad to be in your halls once again**_ thundered Firnen's voice in his head. Saphira's voice joined in the greetings as he stepped down from his throne to meet Eragon midway.

_Greetings, Saphira. Great is my pleasure to talk with you again after so long a while._

He could see the guards' eyes widening at this gesture, but knew this could be done only for such august guests.

His foster-brother had changed enormously, he observed, as Eragon stepped forward and inclined his head slightly. Silver hair that reached down to his shoulders, that shone as if it were burnished; A noble and wise face that somehow seemed more elven than any other elf in existence…even his physique had changed considerably. He seemed taller and well-built with a broad well-muscled chest, definitely not the seedy youth he remembered from the war.

But his brown eyes were gone, replaced by glowing eyes of Indigo that seemed to exude the wisdom of centuries. Eragon stepped forth and bowed slightly but Orik briskly walked to him and clasped his arm in a tight grip that bespoke of reunion and comradeship.

"You don't bow to me or to anyone, brother" he said gruffly, as he caught Eragon in a bear hug that was returned enthusiastically. The guards in the throne room cheered and Laetri smiled in happiness at this reunion. Arya's eyes also shone with a rare happiness at the sight.

"Greetings, King Orik" said Eragon with a note of true happiness in his voice. Orik narrowed his eyes at him and said seriously: "Now, Eragon. Unless you want me and mine people to bow and scrape to the Lead Rider and anoint you the chief guest of honour for all our ceremonies, you will drop the 'Your Majesties' and other tiresome formalities"

Eragon looked so taken aback at this threat that Laetri laughed a full laugh, giving an undefinable joy to the proceedings. Arya too was fighting to restrain a smile…after his stunning display of magic earlier, even she was in slight awe of Eragon. But now he looked like a fish out of the water, what with his eyes wide and mouth open in stupefaction.

_**Still afraid of public speech, my Rider?**_ Came Saphira's sardonic voice, and the deep laughter of all the dragons. Arya could not stop a slight surge of fondness for the Leader of their order, as an indignant expression crossed his face.

"Fine" said Eragon resignedly. Orik brightened, and yelled to his guards. "Mine brother has returned after a century! Mead will flow today as it never has before, our nation will celebrate in a fitting manner! Announce the beginning of the festivities to our people!"

Two dwarven guards bowed, and rushed out of the hall. This was why Eragon liked the dwarves…they were a people who knew how to enjoy with heart. Orik had turned to Arya, and they both bowed to each other.

"Queen Arya, forgive me for ignoring you in favour of mine errant brother. We are truly pleased that you have deigned to visit us after so long a time" said Orik in a pleased voice. Arya smiled in delight and responded:

"Thank you, King Orik. But for now, I am here not as the Elven Queen but as Arya Shur'tugal. Those duties I have left unattended for far too long, and I must fulfil them as I can" she said in a certain voice. Eragon nodded to her, pleased by her declaration. A Rider of Arya's calibre would be a welcome addition to their Order.

Orik laughed his rough laugh, and then inclined his head: "Then welcome to Tronjheim, Arya Shur'tugal. And you, Laetri Shur'tugal, your beauty is like a burgeoning light in a dark void. I am glad to welcome you to Tronjheim, Rider!"

Laetri laughed again, accepting the King's greetings with a bow. "Eragon did not tell me of your silver tongue, Majesty" she said in her musical voice. Orik winked at them.

"Mine dear wife Hvedra has to do with the change. A hundred years of bearing with such a great Grimstcorvlass hath brought out my dormant sense of humour I am afraid" exclaimed Orik. Eragon found himself infected with his foster-brother's delight, and followed as the King of the Dwarves proceeded towards the door.

As the guards opened the gates of the throne room with a bow, Arya looked at Eragon. "Is Roran well, Ebrithil?" she asked. Eragon's and Orik's eyes widened at this mode of address, and Eragon saw how much effort it took for Arya to bend her pride enough to call him that. Laetri smiled knowingly at Arya, however.

Eragon closed his eyes, letting his senses spread everywhere. _Saphira, has Roran woken yet?_ He asked his beautiful Dragon. Saphira took one look at his state of mind, and the retuning rush of happiness from her almost made him buckle.

_**Little one, if Alagaesia makes you this happy…I will not let you leave. Too long have I seen you suffer the pangs of agony, too long have I heard you scream in the throes of loss! No more. We stay here for as long as required**_ she stated firmly. Eragon's high spirits were dampened slightly by this resolution of Saphira's.

It was not up to him, the question of staying or leaving. He was only a piece in the tides of Fate, and he would do what was necessary to protect his Riders. Whatever was necessary.

_**Oh, Little one…we will discuss that later. For now, your nest-mate is resting here in Isidar Mithrim. The spirits leeched much of his energy it seems. He will be well soon enough**_said Saphira.

Sending his thanks, he looked at the concerned face of Arya and Orik. "He is well, and resting at the moment. There is no need to worry"

"You must tell me what happened to reduce Stronghammer to such a state" said Orik, stroking his beard. As they moved through the familiar hallways of Tronjheim, the populace gave way to them respectfully.

"Are we going to Isidar Mithrim?" questioned Arya, noting the route taken by the King. Orik nodded, glancing once at Eragon.

"The council was most insistent on meeting him immediately, along with the Dragons and Riders. They await us at Isidar Mithrim to pay their respects to Eragon and the Riders" said Orik. Arya nodded thoughtfully as they reached the endless staircase in no time.

_**Dwarven politics. Bah!**_ Said Saphira disdainfully, remembering just what had happened to the partner-of-her-mind-and-heart the last time he had entangled himself with said politics.

"No" muttered Eragon in despair. He could endure ceremony if necessary, but it gave him a headache even now. Arya shot him an understanding look as the Dwarves began to ready the lift and pulley mechanism that would convey them to the Star Rose.

…..

_**Don't be so disgruntled, Eragon. Iorunn was eyeing you like a real wolf, wasn't she? Even after a century my Rider manages to turn heads!**_she said in mock happiness. Eragon frowned slightly at the not-so-subtle dwarven politicking he had just endured. It was evident that the clans were scrambling for power as usual, and they knew that his favour would tip the scales considerably. What they did not understand was that he was beyond such trifles.

He glanced up to the high ceiling of Isidar Mithrim with an occupied mind, remembering nostalgically his and Saphira's journey from the very first time they were here in these exact same quarters. Saphira and he were so young and inexperienced back then, simply blundering through and not taking the time to _see_.

_**Ajihad, he saw however briefly what we were going to become eventually. Without his aid we would probably be dead or worse**_, commented Saphira. Eragon had not thought about Ajihad since the war. A slight restlessness crept up upon him as thoughts of the long dead Varden commander filled his mind.

_I must go pay my respects to him_,_ It has been a long time indeed _he said to Saphira softly as he walked briskly towards the door. _I will go alone, for those sacred halls are not made for Dragons. Relax yourself, Saphira. All the…ah… activity with Firnen must have tired you much, _he said with a straight face. Saphira roared indignantly, swiping a claw at him which he avoided easily and bounded outside his rooms quicker than anyone could follow.

_**I will get you for that, Eragon**_roared Saphira as he disappeared in a flash of Indigo light, only to appear at the base of Vol Turin the endless staircase. He composed himself quickly, his face regaining its impassiveness.

As he went through the dwarven halls, the people murmured _"Kingslayer"_ and inclined their heads before going about their businesses. A slight amount of frustration ran through him at that name…it was not what he wanted to define him. Apparently, he had become too famous as the bane of Galbatorix.

_That is not even my greatest accomplishment_, he thought to himself as he sped through Tronjheim. _Building Aiedail to what it is today was harder, much harder_. The stage where he had sworn fealty to Nasuada caught his eyes, and memories rushed through him like a wave.

He could still remember himself as an untested boy of sixteen, thrust into a game of nations and fate. Swearing fealty to Nasuada, the games with the Council of Elders, the deadly dwarven politics…somehow he had survived them all. Not unscathed, perhaps, but he had survived.

The dwarven guards stepped aside to let him pass into the sacred grotto where Ajihad was interred. He walked into the tomb, the silence bearing down on as he felt the weight of his years and experiences.

"Greetings, old friend" he murmured softly, but still his voice carried throughout the dead silent crypt. He bowed in head in respect to the fallen leader, remembering his sacrifices and courage. He could feel Saphira and Firnen flying around in joy, and smiled. He then turned back to Ajihad's resting place and spoke in the language of truth.

"All this is possible because of the resolve of men like you. The peace is threatened once more, but I will not let them break it. I have lost far too much to heal this land…" he said quietly, gathering his thoughts with surprising ease and clarity.

As the resolve and composure filled him, he intoned:_ "Blotsma"_ and roses grew upon Ajihad's resting place. "I will protect this land and her people, you have my word." he said softly as he turned to find Orik looking at him with pride and sadness.

"That was well said, Eragon" he said solemnly as he beckoned Eragon to join him. They walked deeper into the crypt in total silence. Eragon thought he could almost feel the spirits of the dead dwarves, roaming the land half-in, half-out. Orik stopped a while later, looking at an extremely ornate grotto made entirely of precious stones.

Eragon's eyes widened slightly in recognition. Orik murmured dwarven prayers for peace, and Eragon joined him. Together they sang to the gods to let Hrothgar rest in peace, their voices contrasting sharply in their melodies yet soothing.

"You have not forgotten the Knurlan, Eragon" said Orik appreciatively, wiping a few tears from his eyes. "You still remember all that Gannel taught you. Arya would be displeased" he said, laughing his rough laugh. Eragon shook his head slightly.

"I am no one to judge such ancient customs, Orik. Also, I respect your race enough to fulfil my oaths diligently. I swore upon my blood, did I not?"

"That you did, Brother. Come, let us go…the dead deserve their rest" said Orik as they made their way out of the gloomy but peaceful chamber. Eragon inclined his head to the grottos one last time before he exited with Orik, uttering one last benediction infused with magic.

"Rest in peace Ajihad, Hrothgar _Konungr"_

…

Arya entered the dwarven training area at the dwarves' behest, for some of them still remembered the first time she had fought Eragon in this very ground. As she looked around she saw both men and dwarves practicing…it was almost like the Varden.

_Some of the Varden did remain here, after all. They must be the descendants of those people_, she thought to herself as she followed Thorv to the middle of the training area. She remembered Eragon trying vainly to defeat her, the way she had tested him to his limits. Even as a sixteen year old boy, Eragon was a master of the blade skilled enough to make an elf like her pay attention.

She looked up as the fighting ceased, the combatants looking at her with awe and respect. Thorv raised his hand, causing the muttering remnants to fall quiet. The frustration and hurt she had been hiding for a long time needed a release, and this was it.

In Ellesmera she often did not have time for such pursuits as administrative duties claimed much of her day. But sparring occasionally with Lord Dathedr had increased her skill tremendously. The Elf Lord was among their greatest warriors, his strength even exceeding her own before she was a Rider.

Calmness and focus stole through her as she cast off her troubles in preparation for the spar. Here, there was only the sword.

"First blood, Drottningu?" questioned Thorv politely, as he drew his own sword. By Elven or human standards it was a short sword but Thorv carried it well. She had no doubt he was as lethal with that sword as other Riders were with theirs.

Arya nodded, she had trained Thorv for a time but had never taught him swordsmanship. She was curious to see how much he had progressed in his skills, the one student she had taught formally.

"I am Arya Shur'tugal here, Not Drottningu" she said shortly, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she drew Tamerlein. The green blade glinted menacingly in the light of the Erisdar lanterns as she held it to her side. Their audience of two dozen fighters were silent, knowing that they were going to see Riders spar with each other.

"Arya" said Thorv, his eyes narrowing as he assumed his stance. With a roar, he rushed towards Arya with the speed of Elves and Riders and delivered a mighty blow that she blocked nonchalantly with a simple movement.

Thorv grinned, and began fighting in earnest. Sparks flew as their swords met with a jarring clang. Arya did not attack, but only defended herself with unbelievably fast flourishes of her sword that stymied Thorv every time he attacked.

Her raven hair whipped around as she dodged a thrust from Thorv that would have pierced her heart. Thorv was skilled, she could see that much. But in truth, he would have a long way to go before he could defeat her. She could see through his attacks, every one of them.

Thorv stared at her with narrowed eyes, both of them circling the other slowly. This time, Arya dashed forward and swung her sword at his neck too fast for anyone to see. Thorv only just managed to raise his sword to guard himself.

Her wards flared into activity as Tamerlein shattered Thorv's lesser blade to smithereens, and she saw her opponent's eyes widen as she halted her blade just shy of his neck with unnatural control. As the warriors clapped loudly, she slowly returned her blade to its sheathe.

Thorv looked at his broken blade morosely, and tossed it aside. Arya hid her disappointment with the abrupt end of the fight…she was hoping to test her skills more.

"I concede defeat" said Thorv, visibly distressed by the loss of his sword. Arya shook her head, inclining it respectfully to her fellow.

"The fight would have gone on but for a difference in weapon calibre. I apologize sincerely for shattering yours" she said. Thorv waved the gawking warriors back to their stations. "It was mine father's blade. We Knurlan rarely carry swords, but those that we do carry are often precious to us"

Arya was about to reply, when she faintly sensed the use of magic. She turned to find Laetri walking through the warriors, her face wrinkling slightly as she picked up the broken sword Thorv had tossed away. She could see the men in the field stare at Laetri's form with open wonder, some with lust. The field grew silent again as Arya and Laetri met at the centre of the field.

"Greetings, Arya" she said in deference of the Queen's wishes to be treated as a fellow Rider. "And Thorv. You must not let a broken sword interrupt so invigorating a fight. Let me help you" she said, and Thorv watched with amazed eyes as shards of his sword flew back together to their original place. Within moments, Laetri held out to him his now resurrected sword which he received gladly.

"Thank you, Laetri Shur'tugal" he said with happiness, bowing slightly. "And Arya, I will save my wounded pride and stop here. We both know that you would have defeated me a few moves later"

Arya nodded to him as he began to exhort the warriors to return to their practice, and walked out of the arena with Laetri. Out of the corner of her eye she could appreciate the grace and beauty Laetri held. She and Laetri were considered to be among the most beautiful elf-maids alive.

Her old companion Glenwing had fallen hard for Laetri's beauty and poise, as he had once confided to her during their many journeys. Her mind could recall clearly the awed way in which Glenwing had described Laetri, with an expression of wonder upon his face.

_They sat together around the fire, having just left the Varden for Ellesmera. The night was tranquil and silent but for the clickety-click of night insects. Three elven warriors sat around the blazing fire, their noble faces showing little expression._

"_Deynor told me something you should know. He got the message from Brom yesterday" stated Arya, looking at Faolin and Glenwing._

"_What is it, Drottningu?" asked Glenwing curiously. Faolin was staring at her with an emotion that awoke strong emotions in her heart. Closing her eyes briefly, she said with a tone of happiness:_

"_Brom has killed Formora." _

_Glenwing's eyes widened, and Faolin's mouth opened and closed for a moment before he regained his composure._

"_Indeed? That is wonderful news! I feel ashamed to call myself Alfakyn…for all our power, we are hiding in our forests and letting Brom shoulder the burden himself" he said with mixed emotions. _

"_As the queen commands, so it shall be" said Arya with a slight tone of bitterness. But Glenwing sat with a slight frown marring his face._

"_Laetri svit-kona will be saddened and angered. She had sworn to kill Formora by her own hand, but now she will never have that opportunity" he said with tender look on his face. Arya looked at him scrutinizingly._

"_You care for Laetri?"_

_Glenwing's face took on an expression of adoration as he nodded with delight. Arya sometimes felt honoured to have found companions in Faolin and Glenwing, two Alfakyn who trusted her enough to be so free with her._

"_I do. She is the most beautiful elf-maid I have ever set my eyes upon. Her long waist-length silvery hair that entrances my mind with its benevolent shine, her slender and perfect form that never fails to stun me! A face that shines with the beauty and magic of Alfakyn, large blue eyes that draws me in like fathomless pools of mystery…by Vrael, I would count her as a goddess if there ever existed one!" he said passionately._

"He was not the one for me" came Laetri's sad murmur to her ears, shaking her out of reminiscing. She had forgotten Laetri's unnatural ability with the mind-pool.

"Do not be alarmed, I only heard faint echoes of his name in your mind. You have shielded yourself well, Majesty" she said, waving her hand to enclose them with spells against hearing by means mundane and magical.

Arya inclined her head at Laetri. "Thank you. From you that is great praise indeed"

They had stopped at a deserted dwarven hall with a fountain in its centre. The tinkling noise of falling water fell pleasantly on their ears as they seated themselves on its edge. Laetri looked at her suddenly, shining blue eyes meeting shining emerald eyes.

"I sought you out for a reason, your Majesty" she said in her melodious voice. Subconsciously Arya found herself thinking if Eragon found Laetri's form as pleasing as he once found hers. She felt Firnen's amusement at the thought, and his reassurances.

_You must not judge yourself by foreign standards, Arya. You are yourself, no more and no less, _he said to her firmly. Her Dragon's wisdom fell on deaf ears as she continued with the same train of thought. She missed the familiarity she had once shared with Eragon, the ability to bare her fears and happiness to him like she had with no other.

"I came to apologize for my intrusion in Du Fells Nangoroth. Normally, I would never interfere in so intimate a moment, but this time I had to. When Eragon's sanity itself is at stake…I had to take steps. I cannot lose him once more to…to that suffering" said Laetri, and Arya was surprised to find unshed tears in the eyes of the heart-stoppingly beautiful elf-woman.

"You told me that I do not understand" said Arya slowly, gathering her thoughts. "I wish to understand, Laetri svit-kona. I will stop if this question is an intrusion of privacy, but…what is it that exists between you and Eragon?"

She waited with bated breath as Laetri considered the question silently. They sat in silence for about a quarter of an hour before Laetri looked at her directly.

"I am not the only Rider Sahloknir has" she whispered softly. Arya gasped at this, her mind churning agitatedly at the implications. Laetri continued, however.

"The spirits had torn Eragon's soul into shreds, Arya Drottningu. After the sacrifice, he was like a broken man…a ghost with no chance at peace" said Laetri with a single tear threatening to fall from her eyebrows. Arya recoiled as she saw Laetri's memories of that time for a short moment.

_Eragon screamed with his full voice, tossing and turning in his bed. He looked pale and sickly as if the very life force had drained out of him. He looked as if he were at death's door._

_The anguish of his mind thrust itself upon the Nine and-_

Arya closed her eyes, deeply horrified and afraid of the misery Eragon had undergone. _Is that what happens when your soul is unmade?_ She thought to herself. It was a violation…a torture she would not wish upon anyone.

"What did the spirits do to him during his year's absence?" asked Arya in a small voice. She could feel Firnen's boundless sorrow at this realization. She herself had almost broken at a few months torture from Durza. But Eragon was subjected to evil spirits that could rend the soul itself.

"That is not for me to tell" said Laetri in an equally small voice. "Suffice it to say that what happened to him was beyond human and Elven conception of pain" she said, quickly glossing over the topic. Arya felt insignificant at this statement…no wonder Eragon was so different. Her admiration for him grew enormously…her image of Eragon as the love struck but earnest teenager was fading. The more she heard about Eragon's life after the war, the more her fascination with the Lead Rider grew.

"He was on the throes of death, as was Saphira. I…I could not let him die, not after what he had done for me" said Laetri. And Arya saw it as plain as day. Laetri _loved_ Eragon as much as she ever did. Her eyes told Arya everything about how much she loved Eragon…she had no doubt Laetri would give up anything in her world for Eragon's happiness.

"I never thought I would see a being willing to tear their very soul for the ones they care about. I knew at once that he was precious to me, that he had become the centre of my world after his sacrifice. I knew that if he died, Saphira would also die and I and Sahloknir would follow" said Laetri. Though her heart was hurting like never before, Arya slowly held the other woman's hands in an attempt to comfort her.

"He could not die" said Laetri again. "I would not let him. Even if I had to die myself, I would save him" she said, her hands shaking slightly in Arya's. Arya found herself wondering if Eragon knew just how much he affected the people around him with his actions.

After a few moments, Laetri seemed to collect herself.

"Queen Arya, he brought me back my Sahloknir. What he underwent under those abominations, even I do not know fully. With Sahloknir's consent, I wove magic" said Laetri, looking distant at the memories.

"For ten days and ten nights, the Nine of us immersed ourselves in his mind trying to understand what had happened to him. We came to the conclusion that certain parts of what made him Eragon were no longer there…it was those voids in his soul that was destroying him" she said, trying to impress upon Arya what had happened.

"So I decided to fill those voids as much as I could. With Sahloknir's and Saphira's blessing, and the advice of Umaroth-elda, I used the created a spell to guide my intent. I used it to create a bond between Sahloknir and Eragon…thinking that the weight of two dragon-bonds would be enough to anchor him to this world. I was right, he slowly improved though for the next ten years…"

Arya's mind was in utter turmoil at this story that made her question herself in impossible ways. Questions and chaos dominated her mind, and it was thrown into further disarray as Firnen's own confusion joined hers. She urged Laetri as she trailed off, seemingly catching herself before uttering something unpleasant.

"Say on, Laetri svit-kona" said Arya listlessly. Laetri looked at her uncertainly, and continued in a low voice.

"For those ten years, the very mention of your name would make him fall into days of unbearable pain. We could not bear it, what was happening to him. Speaking your name was forbidden on Aiedail…Eragon cast a spell that struck dumb anyone who said your name" she said in a rush.

Tears flowed down Arya's face continuously as she inferred how much Eragon should have loved her. _Was I such a large part of his heart, that cutting me out nearly rendered him unable to live? Oh, Eragon…_

"I…I did not know" said Arya in a choked voice. "I knew he was fond of me, I even heard his true name… I knew he loved me very much, but I just did not _understand_" she whispered.

"He loved you to such an extent that you were as important to him as Saphira and the air he breathes" said Laetri reverently, as if imagining such a love. "That is why it was such an unutterably great sacrifice he made. He _tore _himself to pieces to save me and Sahloknir. For a hundred years, he has lived in pain of being incomplete"

All composure left Arya at these words as she knelt down on the rough floor, shedding bitter tears for Eragon's life and their fate. She felt Laetri's arm around her shoulders, comforting her.

"You are not to blame for this. You could not help that you did not love him then, Arya Drottningu" she murmured softly. Arya looked at her with a tear-stained face, slightly ashamed at how she lost a composure that did not crack even after a hundred years of Elven politics.

Arya shook her head, saying nothing. She had repeatedly broken Eragon's innocent and forgiving heart for fear of her own feelings, had extinguished Eragon's simple and pure hope for her own insecurities. A new realization dawned on her, causing her such pain that she nearly collapsed.

_I gave him no reason to stay in Alagaesia. With all the resources he possessed, he could have raised the Riders right here if he had a reason. I turned him away for my duty and he has suffered for my selfishness and fear._

_This is my fault._

Firnen did not interfere, and she was thankful for that. She did not deserve any comfort after her actions. She did not deserve to even speak to Eragon after all that she had done to him.

_I do not deserve to love him, _the thought was filled with such grief and self-loathing that even her powerful mental protections could not conceal it. Laetri heard the thought clearly, and her eyes widened.

"Your Majesty, your adherence to duty is a part of who you are" said Laetri softly. She could feel Arya shaking slightly. "It is who you are. Do not be ashamed for that" she said firmly to the young queen. Arya hid her face, the tremors of her body increasing. Laetri heard the roars of Firnen echoing through Farthen Dur. She reached out to the queen with her mind, and almost recoiled at the emotions that existed there.

Hatred for herself, sadness at being parted for so long, crushing sorrow for Eragon's sufferings…and a hint of jealousy. Laetri laid her first two fingers upon Arya's brow, whispering "_Slytha"_. The beautiful young queen fell asleep, and Laetri felt the currents of her mind settle.

At the same time, she felt her privacy spells shatter and saw Eragon striding briskly into the hall with a worried face. "Sahloknir told me" he said, looking at Laetri sadly.

"You did the right thing by telling her. If anyone needs to know, it is her. She is too deeply connected to me and the Order to be left in the dark. You did the right thing." he reassured Laetri who was staring at the sleeping queen with a look of great regret.

"She is a strong warrior and Queen, she will overcome this crisis." said Eragon calmly, picking Arya up as if she were an infant and disappeared with a flash of Indigo light, taking Laetri with him. Laetri's thought echoed through him in response:

_She is a strong warrior and Queen, but she is also a woman, Eragon-elda._

….

Eragon stood at the foot of Arya's bed, watching her breathe evenly in her sleep. Her raven hair splayed out on the bed and she seemed to be muttering softly in her sleep. Laetri's elaboration of his experiences seemed to have affected her to a great extent, causing her to mind to slip into chaos.

_**Even after all this, you cannot see her suffer **_came Saphira's voice gently. It was true. Despite the pain she had caused him, he could not see her suffer. He felt curiously…protective of her. As he saw her sleeping with no mask of elven etiquette, he found he could in fact _understand_ a part of her.

He went to sit beside her on her bed, slowly reaching out to stroke her flawless cheek with two fingers. His eyes widened as Arya muttered softly in her sleep, and edged towards him slightly.

_I can see why I must have fallen for her_, he thought to Saphira. _She is indeed very beautiful. And I was only just maturing…I can't think how you bore with me, Saphira. I should have irritated you beyond belief with my adolescent yearnings for her_ he said, withdrawing his hand.

_**You cannot imagine, Little one, just how much you pined after her**_laughed Saphira softly. But then her voice grew somber as she said: _**But you were my Rider, my partner who could love with all his heart. Arya was not wise to turn away the gift you bestowed upon her.**_

Arya began muttering restlessly again, a note of fear entering her voice. Eragon gently stroked the side of her face, arranging her hair into its original curls. She grew silent under his touch, leaning into his hand with a sigh.

His face grew troubled at her involuntary actions. He could not afford to be incapacitated at this critical time, not now when he sought to establish the Riders in Alagaesia once more. _I have never seen her like this, Saphira. _

_**Me neither, Eragon. But I have seen someone like this many times, I have felt their emotions in that state intimately**_asserted Saphira. Eragon nodded.

_Me. _

_**Yes. She looks exactly the way you did when she broke your heart after the Agaeti Blodhren, **_said Saphira. Eragon nodded again, it was to be expected. He felt truly sorry for what she was going through, but his Riders depended upon him. He would not let them down, nor would he let Alagaesia's peace be broken.

"_Eragon" _came Arya's whisper. It was clear she was dreaming. Eragon squeezed her hand in comfort, and disengaged entirely from her. He needed to speak to Blodhgarm to inform him of his findings. Aiedail was more important to him than Alagaesia, and he would not have it unaware of any threat.

_Laetri, I must leave. Will you watch over her? _He asked Laetri by mind, broadcasting his thoughts to her. He felt her assent, and as he waited for her to arrive he raised his voice in song.

As the sweet melody washed over Arya's subconscious senses, she slept with a smile on her face. The door opened as Laetri walked in quietly, looking at Arya's serene face with a faint hint of relief.

"Thank you, Laetri" said Eragon softly as he passed her by. _**What was that you just did, Eragon? **_Asked Saphira teasingly. Eragon shushed her immediately. _As I said…I can SEE a part of her. I cannot help but feel compassion and pity for her, she has had to hide her true self for so long that she has forgotten who she is. She is just like a helpless bird that has forgotten to fly…a bird that has forgotten that it has wings. _

They remained silent as Eragon strode for his quarters at Isidar Mithrim. Then Saphira spoke with a note of pride and nostalgia in her rich voice:

_**You have grown wise, Eragon. Oromis and Glaedr would be proud…nay, they would wholeheartedly respect who you are today.**_

...


	8. Chapter 8

**Greetings again, dear readers.**

**Let me honestly say that I am truly happy after your great responses. It spurred me on to update at a pace I have not adhered to for many months now! Many thanks for reading and reviewing, it is truly what gives me the desire to write and update. **

**So thank you all.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

**DISCLAIMER: I have never added these before, but I will do so now for a change. I own the plot, but the characters and universe belong to Christopher Paolini. **

CHAPTER 8

"They are here, your Majesty. I hope your rather unconventional idea works" said Barden quietly to Palencar. Palencar clapped him on his shoulder reassuringly.

"You know my mind well, Barden. Have faith in me. You do remember how one of my 'unconventional ideas' won us the Battle of Ithro Zhada, do you not?" he asked, and Barden fell silent though a faint anxiety could be detected in his eyes.

Palencar turned to see four glinting specks of light in the beautifully orange horizon of Illirea as they stood upon the tallest battlements which overlooked the entire city. Even after nearly eighty years of this sight, Palencar never failed to be moved by the magnificence of Illirea.

His mother had commissioned Elven architects to reconstruct and renovate the city to its former glory, to entirely remove stains of Galbatorix's dark regime. And so they had. In ten years, the entirety of Illirea had been remade subtly by Elven magic and that had lent a sense of renewal and hope amongst the people.

The specks grew larger, and Palencar's sharp eyes could make out the shape of four large Dragons of different colours. Two dragons sparkled a light shade of green, one was a curious shade of grey and another was brown. Despite himself, Palencar felt a sense of anticipation grow in him. These were indeed not the first Riders he had seen, but these were the first Riders of the newest generation.

"Nighthawks, you have your orders. Acquit yourselves well" said Palencar quietly to the black armoured guards flanking him on either side. It was a legacy from the days of the war, his retaining of the Nighthawks. Nasuada had avoided disbanding them, seeing them as a last line of defence for the monarch. Palencar had seen the wisdom in her decision and had continued recruiting into the Nighthawks, which had become a secret and exclusive order in itself. Only the best were granted entrance into the Nighthawks.

They waited impassively as the four Riders drew gradually nearer. The concussive force of the Dragons' wings was absent, and they seemed to literally glide on the air. Palencar could hear see subjects crowding around in the streets and excitedly pointing at the Four Riders who had entered the city.

With a great rush four huge Dragons landed smoothly in front of Palencar and their Riders dismounted simultaneously. Palencar observed them curiously, noting how they formed up behind the golden-haired elf who walked towards him gracefully.

_One human, three elves. The leading one is Elven and he seems to be much older than the others. I can see it in his eyes_, came Barden's voice to him. The Nighthawks seemed to tense slightly, gripping the hilts of their swords in a subtle manner. Palencar did not begrudge them their wariness for he had been saved from numerous assassins by that very quality.

The Riders stood before him at last, and the Elf stepped forward and bowed with the grace native to his fair people. The other three Riders too bowed after him, but the Dragons all watched him unblinkingly not even seeming to acknowledge him in any way.

"Greetings and felicitations Palencar, son of Nasuada, High King of the Broddring Kingdom, Steward of the central reaches, Keeper of the peace and Shining King" greeted the lead elf with a respectful voice.

"I bring you the best of wishes from the master of our order, Eragon Kingslayer. I am Nuada" he said of himself. "These are my fellow Riders Barristan" he pointed at the human, "Leya" at the beautiful brown haired elf woman, "and Ildarien" he finished indicating the tall Elf with dark hair.

Palencar inclined his head slightly. The Kingslayer had obviously sent a Rider who was experienced in the labyrinthine game of politics. This meeting would have a great effect on Alagaesian future, of that he was certain.

"Greetings, Nuada Shur'tugal" said Palencar in his deep voice. "We are truly happy to host the Riders once more in Illirea after so long. Eragon-elda has returned to his home at a most important time, his presence is sorely needed by the Kingdom" he said, now looking at the others.

"We bid you welcome as well, Ildarien, Leya and Barristan. What of your Dragons?" he asked, observing the Dragons who sat like living sculptures shining in the setting sun.

_I am Domiel, High King. I am bonded to Nuada_, Palencar acknowledged the Dragon with a nod. _I am Cirnathor, and my Rider is Barristan._

_I am Ragnar, and Leya is my Rider._

_I am Isidar, and my Rider is Ildarien._

Their voices rumbled in Palencar's mind like falling rocks, and he bowed to them slightly. "This is Barden, my trusted advisor. The Dragonhold has been made ready for accommodation, Nuada Shur'tugal. I am assuming that you remember where that is?" he asked.

Nuada smiled. "You have read us well, Majesty. Yes, I require no direction to the Dragonhold"

"But" said Palencar, hardening his voice slightly. "I wish for all of you to undergo a mental search by my bodyguards. In Illirea we do not allow unknowns to settle, Riders or otherwise. It is in the interest of protocol. I am sure you understand"

Nuada's eyes narrowed at this statement. The Dragons growled menacingly, causing the Nighthawks to assume battle-stances. Palencar sighed, as did Barden. The lords of the land looked alert, all five of them placing their hands on their weapons.

"Are we Riders not trusted anymore, majesty?" questioned Nuada sadly. "We spoke our oaths in the ancient language to Lord Barden and I assumed that should suffice. Our minds hold many things not for general inspection, not to mention the fact that your magician would probably lose a part of himself in us"

Palencar opened his mouth to reply but a Nighthawk beat him to it: "We will not allow the King to be in the vicinity of unknown Riders. Not even Eragon Kingslayer will escape this inspection, as it is our duty to keep our King safe from all potential danger."

At this, Ildarien laughed softly. Even the dragons emitted a grinding sound from their throats, most likely laughter. Nuada smiled grimly, Barristan and Leya looked slightly amused.

Palencar looked at the enthusiastic Nighthawk intently, causing him to fidget at his King's stare. He looked at the still chuckling Ildarien with a questioning expression.

"What amuses you, Rider?" he asked sternly. As King he could not have people laughing at his delegation, after all. Personally he would have loved nothing better than to join in with the joke but he did have royal decorum to maintain.

"I commend your precautions, your Majesty" said Ildarien in a musical voice. But Palencar could see the contempt burning in his eyes as he turned his stare towards the offensive Nighthawk.

"But if a petty human like you delves into my master's mind" he said in an ominous voice, causing the man to fidget even more. "You will die"

The Nighthawks drew their weapons as one at this threat with a steely sound, causing Ildarien to raise his hand in response. Nuada did nothing, only watching Palencar with scrutinizing eyes.

"Enough" said Barden firmly, indicating for the soldiers to sheathe their swords. "I said. ENOUGH!" he roared, and the black outfitted soldiers slowly sheathed their weapons, still glaring at the Riders.

Palencar and Nuada were staring at each other still, not moving a muscle. Barristan and Leya glanced at each other, and Palencar knew instantly that they were communicating by mind. Silence ensued for a few minutes as the two groups endured a tense silence.

"Very well" said Nuada in a deceptively acquiescing voice. "If you wish to test us, then so be it. Nasuada once made the same mistake and lost her soldier to our minds. If you wish so much to commit the same mistakes then I will not stop you"

"Thank you" said Palencar, beckoning the mind-reader among the Nighthawks to the front. "We meant no disrespect to Eragon Kingslayer now did you, Wayland?" he asked turning to the one who had spoken rudely. Wayland shook his head slowly.

"You may begin" said Nuada. One of the Nighthawks stepped up and looked into the Elves eyes. A few minutes later he moved on to Barristan and then Leya.

"They are who they say they are" said the Nighthawk in a slightly dreamy voice. As he moved on to Ildarien, who interrupted and spoke in the ancient language.

"My mind is different, even for elvenkind. Be very careful" he said to the Nighthawk magician, who did not respond. Palencar saw Ildarien stare right into the magician's eyes. A few moments later the magician disengaged, speaking to Palencar in a lost voice.

"They are genuine Riders who mean you no harm" he said in the ancient language, with a gradually weakening voice. Then with a sigh he fainted, falling on to the stone floor with a thud. All was silent for a few moments, but Wayland raised his sword and yelled an order to charge.

Fifty Nighthawks rushed at the Riders with immediately with swords raised. Palencar only looked at the guards disappointedly, not bothering to stop them.

"_Thrysta" _said the Riders in unison, glaring at the soldiers. The next moment, all fifty Nighthawks were tossed into the air violently and the King was sure he heard bones snap as they fell hard onto the ground. Ildarien's eyes were blazing as he raised his hand towards the stunned Nighthawk commander who had given the order.

"_Brisingr!"_

A green fireball came into existence between them and roared towards the dumbly staring loud-mouthed soldier. But just before it struck Wayland, Nuada shouted the same spell and slashed his hand through the air. Ildarien's fire was met by another Fireball of the same colour and with a painfully bright flash of light, both fireballs burned themselves out. Nuada laid his hand on the angered Ildarien and said:

"I am sure the King did not wish for this gross insubordination from his men" he said, looking knowingly at the King. "It is for him to deal with his men. It is enough that we defended ourselves"

Palencar looked back at the Rider with appreciation, nodding his head regally in assent. He was thoroughly impressed, though he did not show it. They had incapacitated elite Nighthawks in but a moment, and not caused them any serious harm. Their magical prowess was indeed great.

He looked disappointedly at the groaning fifty Nighthawks.

"Suspend these Nighthawks from service, permanently" said Palencar in a serious voice, addressing Barden who nodded uncertainly. Nuada only stared solemnly at the soldiers writhing with pain on the floor, and moved to heal them. Palencar stopped him from doing so with a raised hand.

"Rider, I appreciate your compassion" he said in a clipped voice. "But their violent and undisciplined behaviour is disgusting…they shamed their King in front of Riders and it cannot be overlooked".

Barden and the lords were staring at the prone bodyguards with a disbelieving expression.

"So leave them be. I cannot apologize enough for their actions. For decades, I have trusted Nighthawks to do the right thing but they have broken it today", said Palencar in a sorrowful voice, glancing at Barden who turned away with a hand over his mouth.

"I regret that our meeting was soured thus" said Nuada, also in a sad voice. "I assume your Majesty is satisfied of our good intentions, at least now?"

"I am" said Palencar. "And I do not hold Ildarien Shur'tugal at fault for my mage's incapacitation. My soldier did continue after your warning"

"Perhaps, your Majesty, we should let the Riders retire? We can meet after tempers have cooled" said Barden diplomatically, turning back to his King. Nuada nodded and at his signal the Riders mounted their Dragons, and veered to the right with a rush of air.

_What a way to greet the Riders_, thought Palencar wryly as other soldiers came to bear the injured nighthawks away. _My mother's stories were true, after all. Fifty Nighthawks could not stop them even with the element of surprise. Wayland played his role well…I will have to congratulate him._

"They _are_ strong, Majesty" said Barden to him, bursting into laughter at last. "And they will disapprove of your little trick test when they find out. Your odd sense of humour will one day get you killed", he guffawed.

Palencar laughed as well, a mischievous expression lighting his face. "I learned much about them and their characters with just that little skirmish, old friend. I have found that in times of true surprise we tend to reveal a lot of ourselves as there is no time for too much thinking, be it any race. "

The lords shook their heads resignedly, knowing the sometimes erratic propensity of their king all too well. Palencar was courageous and noble, but his way of thinking and doing were often too shocking to the normally fastidious and conventional nobility.

"Besides" said Palencar expansively. "Nuada already knew what I was up to, my friend. The Ridersstand up to their legend well. I think I can entrust the safety of my Kingdom to their able hands"

The King and Advisor walked off together, consoling the pitifully groaning Nighthawks as they did. Palencar found himself very satisfied with the Riders' conduct and ability. The Riders were here, and their vaunted prowess and acumen was not just a story after all.

The Riders were here.

…

In the high vaulted halls of Isidar Mithrim, Eragon and Saphira faced a scrying projection that showed the Nine facing them, missing Laetri and Yaela.

"…do you understand, Blodhgarm?" he finished his instructions. Blodhgarm stirred out of his attentive silence, as did the others.

"We hear and obey, Eragon-elda" said Blodhgarm, bowing to him in assent. Eragon stood in his rooms with Saphira as he briefed the Nine about what had transpired since his return to Alagaesia. It had taken the better part of an hour to describe to them the state of Alagaesia as he perceived it, and they were alarmed to say the least.

"How many younglings have completed the regimen since I left?" asked Eragon. Invida answered, a look of satisfaction on her face. "Five younglings have completed the regimen, Eragon-elda. They just did so yesterday…the task of filling buckets with holes in them irritated them beyond measure it seems", she said.

Eragon frowned, saddened by the fact that he had to leave. There was a reason he had not taken apprentices since Dusan and Alanna…he loved the younglings too much. Teaching children, he found, gave him a happiness nothing else could.

"How is Varda?" he asked softly. Blodhgarm's face too showed a sadness that was mirrored by all his fellows. Varda was barely six years old, and Eragon was told by the Eldunari that she was most likely the youngest Rider to be chosen for several centuries. She was a young human girl…and she had wormed her way into Eragon's heart in a matter of months.

She had become a favourite of the Nine and the other Riders with her quick mind and enormous talent. But to him and Saphira, Varda and her little Dragon had become something more.

"She was inconsolable when you left, Eragon-elda" said Blodhgarm sadly. "But she gathered herself within an hour. Never have I seen such an extraordinary human child, she will indeed be a treasure to our order. Also, she was one of the five younglings who completed the regimen yesterday"

"The masters have been informed, and the choosing of apprentices will happen tomorrow" said Invida, and in her face and the faces of all her fellows shone a pride and satisfaction he knew was mirrored in his own.

Eragon was amazed once more by Varda's potential…the child was indeed extraordinary. He could feel the Eldunari join minds with him and Saphira urgently, and Umaroth spoke to him in a thundering voice.

_Eragon and Saphira…listen carefully. You must not make the same mistakes the old Order did. You and you alone must take Varda as an apprentice, in this duty you must not fail. Galbatorix was much the same in this regard…at barely ten years he could complete the regimen. Riders with such potential must be nurtured in the right manner, and Varda will grow best and be a light for our order only under your tutelage._

Eragon nodded with happiness, and Saphira too growled in assent. Somehow, he always knew Varda would be his apprentice from the moment he set eyes on her. He turned to Blodhgarm who was watching him very carefully.

"Send Varda to Farthen Dur, Blodhgarm. Send her and her Dragon to Farthen Dur in exactly two days…I will be waiting to take her on as my apprentice" he said firmly. Blodhgarm and the others gasped softly, for eighty years Eragon had instructed all students equally and had not taken on an apprentice.

But Blodhgarm nodded after a few moments of stupefaction. "Varda is indeed special. We will make her ready for the journey…she will reach you as you have specified" said the furry elf.

"Is there anything else, Eragon-elda? The hour of history approaches, and we must make haste to our students, I am afraid" said Invida apologetically. Eragon shook his head, letting them go with a last word.

"Remember my warnings, all of you. Aiedail must be protected at all costs. Take the precautions as I told you…I leave the Order in your able hands" finished Eragon. The eight elves bowed in unison, and the scrying surface winked out of existence softly. Eragon turned to Saphira with pure happiness upon his face.

_Varda is coming here, Saphira!_ He crowed to his Dragon, all dignity forgotten as he leaped twenty feet into the air to land on his Dragon's huge tail. He had thought that the young girl would not complete the Regimen for at least another three years, and had to leave her at Aiedail with not even a goodbye thanks to his disability.

_**Eragon, **_said Saphira amused at his exuberance. She treasured moments such as these where Eragon's youthful and innocent self showed, it gave her hope that he was healing gradually from his sacrifice. _**Eragon, my tail tickles when you keep jumping on it that way!**_She said to him gently. Still Eragon persisted, doing a jerky dance that had her guffawing deeply.

She could feel Sahloknir's amusement as well through the bond Eragon shared with him. _Ebrithil, stop immediately or I will show Laetri your ridiculous dance_ said Sahloknir urbanely causing Eragon to stop in an awkward position, both hands raised and right leg high up in the air.

Saphira swished her tail, and he landed on the ground gracefully on his two feet. Eragon looked at his laughing Dragon indignantly, feeling her happiness burgeon like a vast tide at his own.

_**I love you, Eragon, **_she said in a fond voice and drew him to her side with her wings. Eragon laid his head on her side, his happiness at Varda's impending arrival even outshining his sadness at Arya's situation for a few moments. That girl had changed him irrevocably for the better, had showed him the beauty of viewing the world with a child's innocence and love.

_We will turn her into a Rider of the likes this world has never seen, won't we, Saphira?_ he asked his partner with resolve. He could feel Saphira's agreement at his statement.

_**That we will, little one. But someone is knocking on the door for several minutes, I believe. You must go open it before the dwarves assume something is amiss**_**, **she said to him.

He walked to the door with a slightly ashamed expression, for Blodhgarm's news had given him happiness he had felt rarely. Before they knocked again he pulled it open and saw a dwarf in full armour bow down to him.

"I am Kestor, Argetlam, and I have been ordered to give you a message. King Orik informs you that he wishes for you to meet the Elven ambassador to the Dwarven Kingdom, if you are unoccupied"

Eragon's expression smoothed and he nodded slightly. It was time for him to start taking a direct hand in Alagaesian matters. He only had to wait for Arya to wake, and then he could join his Riders in Illirea to build the Riders once more in this land.

_Shall we go, Saphira?_

_**Yes we shall, Little one, **_said Saphira as she drifted into the air with a mighty thrust of her wings. "Thank you, Kestor" Eragon acknowledged the messenger who bowed low; Eragon cracked his neck and with a running start he ran up the wall for thirty feet and jumped to several pillars effortlessly, gaining height as he did so.

_He seems to be moderately impressed_, observed Eragon of Kestor when he landed accurately on the saddle as Saphira passed him by somewhere near the hundred feet high ceiling. Kestor watched him with a worshipping expression, something that made him more than a little uncomfortable.

Saphira snorted to him as she soared out of Isidar Mithrim and gained speed.

_**Sometimes, I wonder what happened to my shy and modest Rider who blushed like a rose when he received the smallest compliment**_, she said as they flew like an arrow towards Tronjheim, ignoring Eragon's fervent protests to the contrary.

….

"Ah, Eragon. Come in, come in! I called you early so we could speak for a bit before the Elven ambassador arrives" called Orik heartily as he saw Eragon standing at the door to his chambers. Eragon walked in slowly, admiring the change in Orik's rooms. It seemed that his foster brother had acquired a taste for the finer things in life over the years. Fairths decorated his polished marble walls elegantly, most of them depicting dwarven life in ways that interested Eragon. A rich carpet of Kuastan design adorned the floor, woven with golden thread.

His eyes sparkled merrily as he saw a cabinet of fine wines that the King had collected. He never knew that dwarves drank anything but ale or mead, but once again Orik had surprised him. He glanced at Orik, who looked rather sheepish at the opulence of his quarters. Eragon raised a brow at him, indicating the wines.

"I did not know that you sampled such beautiful wines, Orik" he said with surprise. Brewing had become a hobby of his at Aiedail…his students were quite convinced that he had mastered the art thoroughly for his last batch had become the talk of the town. Also, he had read many books about the fine Vintages in Alagaesia and had desired to sample them for many years.

For nearly ten years now, he had studied much of the subject of brewing and he could proudly say that he was a connoisseur of exquisite taste. At least, that was what the Elves told him.

"Hah!" snorted Orik, dismissing the notion. "Hvedra and mine aunt Vardrun again, those two convinced me to commission all these…these unnecessary displays of wealth!" he said in a faintly outraged voice.

"I don't care" said Orik and strode to the cabinet and pulled out a beautifully blown glass flask. He glared at the thing and declared: "I don't care if this Belatonian Red were brewed by Killian Honningsbrew during the war of the Riders! For us Knurlan, ale and mead are enough is it not?" he said, pausing for a moment in his harangue.

"Is it not, Eragon?" he asked again, passionately.

Eragon was staring at the bottle with a reverent expression. He could also feel Saphira's awe as Orik identified the precious wine he held so angrily in his hands. Slowly, he stepped forward towards Orik, gently divesting him of the flask and caressed the symbol over its front.

"Orik you have no idea what this _is_, do you?" he whispered. Orik looked stymied for a moment, watching a strange mood come over Eragon.

"Of course I do, Eragon. 'Tis a worthless bottle of old wine I bought for three bags of bright gold at mine Grimstcarvloss' insistence!" said Orik, bemused by Eragon who was slowly polishing the bottle with a spell that flowed out of his hand. When he was convinced that the flask shone to his satisfaction, Eragon sat slowly in a chair and examined the bottle slowly, admiring its contents.

_**Little one, you need to get that from Orik somehow**_**,** said Saphira in a fervent voice. Eragon knew that his wine-loving Dragon was as fanatic about these matters as he was. Saphira had long since graduated from quaffing ale, to sampling wine. Not that she did not enjoy a barrel or ten of ale occasionally, but she had developed an odd appreciation for the finer brews.

Eragon turned to Orik slowly, a cunning expression upon his face. It was not an expression Orik could say he enjoyed upon his brother's face. Eragon spoke in the ancient language now, looking intently at Orik.

"You see that cabinet there as worthless, do you not?"

Orik nodded emphatically, and replied in kind. "Beyond worthless. I know what you are thinking, I would gladly give them to you but for-"

"Hvedra" they both said, nodding. Shunting aside the utter amusement he felt from Laetri and Sahloknir, he focused upon his task. Saphira was also quiet in his mind, waiting with anticipation.

"Do you remember the light I brought down on your city when I entered it?" asked Eragon, his eyes never leaving Orik's. "It gave Farthen Dur a very unique change. I am assuming your gratefulness will extend to gifting me that entire cabinet in appreciation of my actions"

"What actions be those?" asked Orik curiously.

"That light I cast was special, it gave Farthen Dur's soil a fertility that can only be matched by the heartlands of the Kingdom" said Eragon in an offhand voice watching Orik's face split by a beaming smile, all the jesting in his eyes replaced by gratitude.

"Eragon, I would have given you those wines anyway" he said in a serious voice, clasping Eragon's arm tightly. "For what you have done for us I cannot thank you enough, my brother. What else would you ask of me? Anything within my power, I will give you!"

"Just the wines will do, thank you" said Eragon with equal seriousness. Orik nodded, "Then they are yours, brother!"

They could hear Saphira's roar of joy high in Tronjheim, and Eragon smiled as well. He could hear elven laughter behind him and he found the sound somewhat familiar. As he turned to face what must be the Elven Ambassador, his eyes widened slightly.

"Vanir?"

His old rival had lost his unwarranted haughtiness completely, and was dressed in robes of rich silk looking every inch the aristocratic elf. Vanir stepped forth, bowing to both Orik and Eragon.

"_Atra esterni ono thelduin, Orik Konungr and Eragon Kingslayer"_ he said respectfully. Orik did not bother to return the elven greeting, instead clapping Vanir heavily on his back. Eragon was surprised that Vanir did not take offense at that…but he could see that Vanir was used to dwarven culture.

"Vanir, it has been a long time" said Eragon warmly as the elf sat himself down with Orik. Vanir inclined his head, looking pleased with their reunion.

"It has indeed, Eragon Shadeslayer. I see you have changed enormously. I once called you worthy of the title Rider, but just by looking at you I can tell: You are also a worthy leader of the Riders" he praised Eragon, who smiled faintly. He floated the bottle of Belatonian Red back to the cabinet and set it gently on its rightful place.

Vanir looked highly amused at his care. "I never thought I would see Eragon Kingslayer barter like an old woman for a bottle of wine!" he said loudly, causing Orik to grin and Eragon to look at him in shock. He even felt Saphira's utter shock at this changed Vanir.

"Vanir, I think Orik has converted you" he said gravely, with mirth dancing in his eyes. Vanir nodded, and the three of them laughed uproariously. Eragon felt lighter than ever, all his cares and concerns forgotten for the moment. More than ever, he was thankful for his Riders who forced him to return.

"Dwarves, Eragon-elda" said Vanir, shaking his head with a full smile. "I have lived much of the last hundred years with them, and I can say honestly that I enjoy being among them. These days I quaff more mead than I ever did Faelnirv" he said. Eragon looked at him with an amazed expression, shaking his head once more.

"Vanir my friend, you have changed much from the uptight elf that accosted me in my youth. The Dwarves have done you good, I believe" he said in his melodious voice. Vanir's and Orik's faces assumed nostalgic expressions as he seemed to remember the old days.

After a few moments, Vanir looked at them all seriously. "I just visited the Queen, she seemed to be awake though a little disoriented. What happened to her?" he asked with a concerned expression.

_This day is good for us_, thought Eragon feeling Saphira's agreement. Varda was coming to him, he got a selection of extremely fine wines, he met Vanir after all this time and now Arya had awakened. He turned to Vanir and said:

"Private matters, my friend. I would tell you but her Majesty would not appreciate the indiscretion" he said softly. "Ah", said Vanir with an understanding expression. Orik now turned to Vanir with a serious expression.

"What news from Galfni?" he asked, leaning forward. Vanir remained silent for a moment, and then spoke:

"Az Sweldn rak Anhuin is stirring again, your Majesty. They have started to monopolize several markets in Buragh and Galfni, and have begun to muster support from several clans. Whatever they are planning cannot be good" he said intently, glancing at Eragon.

Eragon sighed resignedly; it appeared that he would never be free of those particular dwarves. No doubt it was in response to his arrival that they were stirring up all this trouble.

"Orik, those Knurlan will never leave me alone" he said. "Word must have reached them of my arrival. The foolish oath they swore in Tarnag those years ago is still in force, I assume?"

"You assume correctly" said Orik with an expression of distaste. "They are your blood-enemies despite the fact that you killed Galbatorix. Among Knurlan you will certainly have that one source of opposition" he said, and faced Vanir again.

"What products are they monopolizing mainly?"

"Weapons and Forge material" said Vanir grimly. "My people cannot trace the money back to their clan coffers officially, but we picked thoughts out of their minds that lead us to believe of their culpability in the matter"

"This is peacetime to a large extent" said Eragon thoughtfully. "The only reason anyone would purchase weapons is because they would want to start violence of some kind. We arrived just on time, it seems"

Then he looked curiously at both Vanir and Orik.

"If I may ask, why is the Ambassador of the elves investigating such happenings for the Dwarven King in his own Kingdom?"

Orik grinned. "Vanir was bored of all the formalities after a few years. _Years_! Then he came to me with the offer of performing such services occasionally, on the condition that he would tell Arya what was relevant to the Elven nation. It has worked out well"

"I can see that" said Eragon. Then he straightened, questing with his mind for Arya and Laetri and found them in a matter of moments.

_I have been informed that the Queen is awake, and I cannot adequately convey my satisfaction at the news. Your Majesty, can you please join us in King Orik's chambers if you are able? It is time for me to disclose what the spirits divulged to me. I await you and Laetri to resume our discussions._

He felt Arya's acknowledgement, and Laetri's.

_We will be there soon, Eragon-elda._

"Orik, I have important news. As long as you are here, you might also listen to this Vanir" said Eragon. He could hear footsteps echoing slightly through the hallways and he knew Arya was here with Laetri. Surely enough, the door swung open and let Laetri and the elf-queen inside.

Eragon could see something changed in Arya's face…she appeared to have made some sort of decision, and the conflict appeared to have left her eyes as she looked at him with a calm expression. Laetri smiled at him, glancing once at the cabinet of wines.

He nodded to them, and received a nod in return.

Vanir rose along with Orik, and after the customary exchange of courtesies Arya and Laetri sat themselves on Eragon's left and right respectively. They could feel the Dragons' mind join with theirs and solemnity bled into the air.

Laetri raised her hand, and quietly incanted spells of warding and concealment at Eragon's request. They waited as Eragon closed his eyes for a few moments, before he opened them and glanced at the space next to their table.

…..

Palencar sat in his throne-like chair, staring at the Riders who had seated themselves around him. Barden seemed to be right, they seemed to be rather miffed with him for they had extended to him only the exact amount of courtesy necessary and not an inch more. In an effort to mollify them, he had ordered the general populace to respect the privacy of the Riders until such a time they chose otherwise.

He could see wariness in their eyes as they subtly looked around the room, watching for traps or ambushes. But Nuada, he could see, was a consummate politician, and true to his salt he addressed Palencar with a polite voice.

"Your Majesty, I hope the Nighthawks are all fine. But their incompetence is astounding. I hope you really did suspend them from service"

Palencar's eyes flashed as he leaned forward with an interested expression.

"Oh? Then tell me, Nuada Shur'tugal. How would you have approached the situation if you were one of the nighthawks today?" he asked coolly. He knew and the Riders knew well the fact that the attack, though potentially lethal was only a test. Palencar was still impressed with Nuada's ability to read the situation so accurately, no doubt he was an elf who was very old.

"Fifty soldiers attacking four Riders and Dragons is foolishness, High King" said Nuada quietly. "I doubt even three hundred of your Nighthawks can attack us and hope to live, even with the element of surprise. This brings to light one single thing, something that should have been rectified long ago"

"And what problem is it that you see?"

"Your protection is flimsy" said Nuada flatly. "There are beings in Alagaesia who, if necessary, can sweep aside those poor Nighthawks with even more ease than we did. You might be protected against human intrigue but you are definitely not protected against beings whose blood sing with magic"

Palencar's face had grown serious. "I am more protected than you may believe, Nuada Shur'tugal. Besides, how would you offer a solution to the problem you perceive? Surely not with a Rider who would guard me at all times" he said with a slight scoff.

Nuada clasped his hands, staring seriously at the king.

"That is exactly what we are offering, Majesty" he said. Palencar's eyes widened and Barden gasped.

"We are offering to let Barristan stay with you, to protect you at all times. I cannot emphasize this point strongly enough…you are vulnerable, and we cannot have you slain by those who wish to break the peace. You are far too important to the stability of this land!"

"I see. I am truly grateful for your concern about my person, but I wish for you to tell me the truth. What threatens my kingdom?" he asked in an intent voice. He picked up Nuada's hints easily enough.

"We are ready, Nuada" said Ildarien softly to Nuada, who nodded to him. Palencar watched impassively as Ildarien cast a spell that created a reflective surface, spanning ten feet by ten.

"Majesty, It is not my place to tell you that piece of news. Eragon-elda has contacted us now and wishes to speak with you personally" said Nuada, indicating the silver coloured screen upon which colours were spreading chaotically before resolving into a room he knew all too well.

Orik's personal chambers came into view, but this time he did not even look at the Fairths or at the wine cabinet. He did not even fully register the other Queen Arya and the Elven ambassador, nor did he see properly the extremely beautiful Elven woman standing next to the person of his scrutiny.

No, he stared directly at the one man who was at the centre of it all and even he could not stop a sense of awe rising in his chest. This man was history itself, the Lightbringer who had delivered Alagaesia from its darkest pit. His mother's stories did not even capture a small part of the reality.

Eragon Kingslayer stood before him, clearly visible through the projection. Nasuada had told him everything she knew about Eragon, literally everything. She was of the sincerest belief that a ruler needed to be armed with all the information he could acquire, for ignorance was the bane of all stability.

As he observed the burnished mane of silver hair that fell to the lead Rider's broad shoulders, his lithe and graceful body clothed in pure white elven silk, the sword _Brisingr_ strapped to his waist and most of all, his wise and noble face shining with wisdom and strength…Palencar immediately tried to destroy his preconceptions about Eragon Kingslayer. The man who stood before him was nothing like what Nasuada had described to him…no he was not.

To Palencar's experienced and world-weary eyes, Eragon Kingslayer seemed to exude such a deep wisdom and authority that he felt as if he were a small child once more, learning at his father's feet. His usual flippant behaviour would have to be discarded, for he was facing a _true _Rider.

He only stared with amazed eyes at Eragon, and shook himself as he saw Arya and the Elven woman staring at him with an amused look. Eragon looked at him solemnly, and Palencar inclined his head in respect. If there was anyone who he could say exceeded him in nobility and stature, it was this man and the Queen of the Elven race.

"Hail Eragon Shur'tugal, Rider of Saphira, destroyer of Galbatorix, Shadeslayer, Lightbringer and Darksbane" he said, standing up to greet the Legendary Rider. He could see Barden and all the Riders bowing to the Lead Rider, who acknowledged them all with simple nods and smiles before he turned his ageless eyes upon Palencar.

"Hail Palencar, High King of the Broddring kingdom. I am glad that we could meet at last. Your parents live on in you, it seems" he said in a clear and musical voice, and Palencar felt a sense of satisfaction at the compliment. It was indeed high praise to be compared to his great parents by one who knew them so well.

"Palencar, it has been a while since I last saw you. You have certainly matured from the bloodthirsty young man I saved at the battle of Ithro-Zhada" said Arya with an open smile. Palencar smiled back heartily, hiding his sudden insecurity at Eragon's presence.

"Queen Arya, it is nice to meet you as well. And King Orik, a great pleasure" he said to his fellow royalty. "None of that now, Palencar" said Orik gruffly. Palencar laughed, wanting to thump Orik on his back but unable to.

"Your Majesty, a great pleasure to see you again" said Vanir. Palencar nodded to him, and looked upon the silent elf-woman who sat at the Kingslayer's right. He had always thought Queen Arya to be the most beautiful female, but this elf-maid was just as beautiful.

Where Arya's hair was a shining raven colour, this woman's hair was a burnished silver that framed her heart-shaped face and presumably continued to her waist. Despite being a happily married man, Palencar's heart beat faster as he saw her absolutely perfect form that looked like desire itself taken human shape. Her pale skin shone faintly and her large eyes were an irresistibly bright blue. She was a vision of perfect Elven beauty but he was shaken out of his appreciation as he saw out of the corner of his eye Barden stare gormlessly at the elf-maid.

He kicked his advisor hard under the table, and chuckled silently as Barden stared at him with a hurt look. Eragon however indicated the lovely elf-woman and said:

"This is Laetri, Rider of Sahloknir and one of the nine Elves who accompanied me to Aiedail a hundred years ago" he introduced her. Laetri nodded regally to him, but with a faint smile playing upon her lips.

_An elfin Rider with enormous battle experience. The Kingslayer seems to rely on her_, he thought to himself as Eragon's presence filled the room even from so far away. He could feel a very powerful and ancient mind that was distinctly not human…amazement ran through him in a fresh wave as the Dragon Saphira addressed him directly:

_**It is a pleasure to meet Nasuada's hatchling. Greetings, King Palencar**_**,** she said in a rich and ancient voice. Palencar replied in kind:

_It is a great honour, queen of the skies_; he replied in the ancient language and felt Saphira's pleasure. Eragon stood up, including both rooms in his encompassing stare.

"The rulers of the races have met at last, save for Nar Garzhvog" he said solemnly. Palencar's study was very quiet as they heard the Kingslayer's seriousness in his tone, and paid the utmost attention.

"I have news of great import to share with you all. It concerns the activities of a race that mostly does not interfere with the other races" said Eragon, steepling his fingers.

"But in the last century, they have been involved in one way or another. After I slew Galbatorix, the nations have let their guard down and have ignored the fact that darkness can never truly be destroyed" he continued in the same tone, glancing from one face to another.

"That is why it falls to the Riders once more to root out evil wherever it may have hidden. Listen carefully, rulers of Alagaesia, to the information I have gleaned from my recent activities"

The three monarchs leaned closer, listening with intent as the Kingslayer elaborated carefully upon his findings and speaking in the ancient tongue. Their alarm grew slowly as they heard the truths from him, even Arya's eyes showed a hint of disturbance.

One thing was clear: They were being threatened once more.


	9. Chapter 9

**My dearest readers, many thanks for your kind reviews. I sincerely hope you will continue gracing me with your excellent readership. Thank you.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 9

Eragon stood at the edge of the Kostha Merna with Saphira, his long silver hair rippling in the wind that blew cold and soft over the lake. Laetri had accompanied him of course, she always did when possible. He felt Sahloknir's and Saphira's happiness as they flew free in the twilight skies above the Beors, joined shortly by Firnen. Sahloknir and Firnen were almost the same size, wondered Eragon as he saw that the two almost seemed to compete with each other.

He could faintly feel Sahloknir's envy of the green Dragon, though he hid it well. Eragon had suspected Sahloknir's intentions of wanting to mate with Saphira, but Saphira had already chosen Firnen as her mate long before Sahloknir had hatched. Laetri glanced at him with eyes that told him that she too sensed the quandary of their situations, that she too appreciated the mirroring irony between the Dragons' and Riders' problems.

"You should have comforted Roran, Eragon" said Arya, a faint note of reproach in her voice. When he had finished relaying his suspicions to the rulers of Alagaesia Roran was still recovering. But Eragon dutifully told him everything, not keeping a single thing from him. It was not pleasant to see his reaction in the least, especially after Roran had tried to punch him and managed to break his own wrist.

"To what end, your Majesty?" he asked. Even though he considered her a Rider now, he could not help but revert to the proper form of address. "I would never presume to restart the relationship we once had after a hundred years of absence, not after delivering him the news I did. I could feel his pain. He wanted to be left alone"

"In this I agree with Arya, Eragon-elda" said Laetri quietly. "He is your cousin, and the first family he has known. He would vent anger at you no doubt, but I feel you would still be a source of comfort to him"

Eragon fell silent, still keeping his senses out for the arrival of Varda. Neither Arya nor Laetri pressed the issue, sensing his discomfort over it. Eragon gave a small sigh as he roved his eyes over the beautiful Beors in the first light of the morning.

"The one good thing to come out of my sad tale was that the Riders are accepted in Illirea. King Palencar is a very shrewd man, and wise to have tested my Riders like he did. A cautious King who takes nothing at face value and makes his own conclusions" said Eragon appraisingly. Arya nodded, with a faint smile playing about her lips.

"That he is. Palencar is exactly the kind of man we need to keep the peace…but he is erratic at times. If you wish to listen to my advice, I would ask you to treat him with care. He can draw the oddest conclusions from the most irrelevant details" warned Arya.

Eragon nodded smilingly. "Your advice is appreciated. I have a question for you, if I may ask" he stated, and continued upon seeing Arya acquiesce.

"Do you know what happened to Murtagh?"

A shake of the head greeted him. "No, he has not contacted me at all. It seems he is intent upon being left alone after the war, Galbatorix affected him more than we could have imagined" she said. Eragon's eyes darkened slightly at the name.

"Galbatorix" he said, saying his dead foe's name after many years. Laetri cursed softly at the sound of the traitor's name, causing Arya to look at the princess in slight shock. Laetri lifted her head to look at the freely flying Dragons, the expression of anger still not leaving her face. Eragon shook his head, turning to Arya with a sad face.

"The Eldunari Galbatorix had twisted in his reign of darkness; we have tried to heal for decades now. Laetri here has had more success than all of us combined…but then again what success we have had is nothing to glorify" he said with a downcast expression.

"How many…?" asked Arya softly.

"We have only managed to restore eighty" stated Eragon. "Of those, seven wished to return to their Riders in the void. I shattered those myself…" he said with an expression of utter grief twisting his face for a moment, before he composed himself. Arya clenched her fist for an instant, and cursed Galbatorix with a vile epithet.

The Dragons landed around them, and Firnen spoke to them with a regretful voice.

_The egg-breaker's evil will take many more years to undo completely. Eragon-elda, I and Sahloknir saw a flash of white light just a ways north of this location. Is that significant in anyway? _

Laetri pushed away the dust kicked up by the Dragons' arrival with a single spell as Eragon's eyes widened with pleasure. But he did not move, instead looking at the mountain-obscured land with a discerning look.

"She will find us" said Eragon. Arya turned to him curiously and asked, "You seem attached to this Rider very much. She is human, is she not?"

Eragon heard a slight disdain in Arya's tone, and frowned. It seemed that the Elven Queen had been secluded too long in her leafy realm, too immersed in Elven courtesy and strength. People could certainly change in hundred years, but he found he could not appreciate _this_ change in Arya.

"That she is" he affirmed quietly. "She will be my apprentice. My _true _apprentice. I can sense in her something I did not even in Dusan and Alanna with all their elven grace. Varda is special, she has a pure heart and righteous inclination that will make her better than any other Rider" he said.

Arya scoffed lightly. "Forgive me, but she is a child. All normal children tend to be pure of heart, do they not?"

"You will see as you get to know her" commented Eragon in a distant voice as their well-honed hearing picked up a slight sound to their right. Arya suddenly turned to find a small shape standing next to Saphira, who was chuckling her throaty laugh at their discomfiture.

_I must be getting soft_, murmured Arya to Firnen._ A child managed to almost evade me even though the light is fading!_

_She is an apprentice Rider, Arya. That does mean something despite her age_ said Firnen as they watched the girl give a low bow to Saphira, who snorted. Sahloknir growled lightly and nudged the girl with his snout.

A hand darted out of the white cloak and lowered the hood, and shook out blonde hair that fell to her shoulders.

Arya was quite certain that the young lady would be a very stunning beauty as she grew up, for she was the most beautiful human child Arya had ever laid eyes on. If Eragon were not so forthcoming with his information, she would in fact mistake the child for an elf.

"Ebrithil?" asked the child in a small voice as she came to stand in front of Eragon, barely taller than his knee. She looked at Eragon with large green eyes, and Arya gasped lightly as Eragon's face filled with an emotion that struck her to the core. She could read his face for a moment, and saw the extreme love and protectiveness he had for this child.

_Where is Belgabad?_ echoed the voice of Saphira in their minds as she looked around inquisitively. Firnen suddenly growled with irritation as a white blur dropped out of the air, landing on his snout with a distinct _thump._ Before they knew it, Firnen had pinned the blur under his large claw.

Laetri sighed resignedly at the scene as they saw the Dragon trying to wriggle out of Firnen's grip. It was barely larger than a hatchling, surmised Arya. Possibly not more than a month old. Firnen inspected the wriggling Dragon closely as Eragon and the child watched with identical expressions of exasperation.

Then something seemed to register with Arya. Firnen's mental expression of pure amazement echoed through their minds as he hurriedly let the _white_ hatchling up, who flew rapidly into his young Rider's arms. She could only just hold her Dragon, both of them were so small.

_Belgabad is quite the opposite of his namesake_, thundered Sahloknir's amused voice. _He is a Dragon who is fond of practical jokes, though this one seems to have gone awry. I believe he intended to fall upon me _he said affectionately. Laetri too laughed as the white Dragon somehow seemed to look ashamed. Eragon was chuckling softly at the scene and even Saphira's enormous frame shook with her amusement.

"A _white _Dragon?" whispered Arya with awe as she stared at the Dragon. Firnen too leaned his snout close as he examined the Dragon with shining eyes. The child laid the White Dragon down on the ground and turned to Arya and bowed.

"I am Varda, your Majesty" as Arya tore her gaze from Belgabad. "He was only playing. I hope you are not angry" she said in an abashed tone, looking down at the ground determinedly. Arya knelt and lifted the child's chin with gently, looking into her eyes. But Varda turned to Firnen with a scared expression on her face.

_Are you hurt, Firnen-elda?_ asked Varda in an innocent voice as she painstakingly examined Firnen's snout without the slightest hint of fear. Firnen lay still as the girl completed her study and spoke as the child looked scared still.

_It will take much more than that to hurt me, youngling_ he said to her, his rich voice making her eyes widen. He lowered his snout even more to stare into Belgabad's eyes, an expressive blue that contrasted with his pristine white scales.

"Your Dragon carries a powerful name" said Arya softly. "I have a feeling that he will even eclipse his namesake one day, young Varda. I wish you well in your apprenticeship with Eragon-elda"

Firnen had snorted and nudged Belgabad gently with his snout, and the young Dragon also snorted a trail of smoke. Arya let a smile upon her face as happiness bloomed across Varda's face at her words. She nodded as Firnen spoke to her and in a rush of air departed towards Farthen Dur with Saphira and Sahloknir.

"It is alright Belgabad", consoled Varda as she picked up her white Dragon with a sad expression. The three Riders watched with fondness as the very young Rider seemed to be holding a serious discussion with her Dragon. Belgabad was looking at the majestic forms of Firnen, Saphira and Sahloknir with mournful eyes and it was not hard to guess what was going through the hatchling's mind.

Eragon held out his hand to Varda. After setting down her white Dragon, Varda put her small palm in Eragon's hand. Arya spoke quietly to Laetri as they followed behind master and apprentice, "When was she chosen?"

Laetri looked at her with bright eyes. "A month and a half ago….it was the only white-dragon egg in our original store. Belgabad is of great lineage, a powerful lineage" she said. Arya nodded, a suspicion forming in her mind as they approached the entrance to the Varden. She saw Varda relentlessly questioning Eragon about various things with animated gestures, her blonde hair swaying everywhere in her enthusiasm.

Eragon answered the questions of his young apprentice with patience, remembering his own tendencies as a child. Varda drilled him all the way to the entrance about various topics that ranged from whether or not the dwarves would like her, why Queen Arya was so amazed when she saw Belgabad, why the Dwarves lived inside a mountain when there was so much land outside?

Why, what, when, where, _how_…

He could see Laetri smiling as he answered Varda's questions one after the other. Arya too was smiling openly, something he noticed happened much more often than ever before. He felt a strange sense of completion when Varda had arrived with Belgabad and a barely hidden happiness that brought him solace.

The dwarven guards who manned the tunnel looked at Varda with surprised and reverent eyes, bowing to the party as they moved gradually towards Tronjheim. As they passed through a particularly dim section of the tunnel, Varda held tightly to Eragon's hand.

"I don't like this place, Ebrithil" she whispered in a scared voice. Eragon saw Laetri about to rush to her, but he stopped her with a gesture. Arya watched with curious eyes as Eragon knelt down to face Varda, who was glancing around the cave.

"I am here, Varda" he said in a soft voice and Arya watched with an amazed expression as the child's face lit up at this simple statement. She watched with emotions she herself could not decipher as Eragon picked Varda up in his arms, standing tall as Varda held onto his neck.

She walked now alongside Eragon, as did Laetri. Eragon and Varda had resumed their conversation but Varda seemed to be growing gradually tired. A six year old, even if a Rider could only be active for so long. She heard a raw growling and saw Belgabad drifting above her, frantically flapping his wings.

She could not believe this young Dragon. It was remarkably persistent, and it seemed as if it had not given up on the notion of dropping upon people's heads from what it considered a great height.

As Belgabad fell, she caught him in her arms and nodded to Eragon. "He seems to like you and Firnen. He picked up this habit of falling on people only recently, and only ever does it to Blodhgarm, me or Eragon-elda" said Laetri as they neared Tronjheim.

"I am glad" said Arya quietly, as Belgabad flew forward to stare at the drowsy Varda with large eyes. "They are so very young. Young and bright…and innocent. I can see why Eragon likes teaching the young ones so much…"

"They affect you in powerful ways" commented Eragon, still holding a sleepy Varda. "after Dusan and Alanna, I wanted to teach the little ones very much. They are like the most beautiful diamonds…you just need to _shape_ them well" he said passionately, glancing at Varda and Belgabad who were again in a private conversation. With a defiant snort, Belgabad slowly rose higher and higher almost reaching the ceiling of the tunnel.

_Belgabad, enough. Do not fall on us anymore, please. You can descend upon my nest-mates, who you are going to meet shortly_ said Eragon to Belgabad, projecting his thoughts. The dwarves wore giddy smiles as Laetri and Arya laughed out loud at his admonishment, throwing back their heads in their mirth. Their melodious laughter trilled out like the song of birds, like the notes of a melodious instrument.

Eragon's sense of contentment increased as he saw his Riders' happiness at the moment, capturing the moment forever in his mind. This was how he wanted to remember Laetri and Arya, their ethereal beauty augmented to that of goddesses by their wholehearted happiness. This was how he wanted to see them always.

_**Oh, Eragon**_…came Saphira's grateful and fond voice._** Something good is happening to you, I can feel it. You must make a Fairth of that moment**_**.**

_I most certainly will, _he said as the conversation flowed softly between him and the two elven women. Arya seemed to be particularly happy as she spoke with bright eyes and a glowing face, none of her previous masks upon her. Varda, it seemed, had drifted off to sleep upon his shoulder. He could see Arya look at him differently as Varda slept upon his shoulder. It was a gaze of wonder and admiration…he had forgotten that Arya had never seen him with the younglings before.

They came out into the hollow portion of Farthen Dur, and Eragon murmured in Varda's ears. "Wake up, my apprentice. We are here. Or do you want to sleep through your first sight of Tronjheim?"

At the word Tronjheim, Varda's eyes shot open and she twisted in Eragon's arms to stare at the dwarven city with open-mouthed awe. Belgabad too stared at the city for a moment, before he turned his puzzled gaze to Varda.

"Behold Tronjheim, jewel of the Dwarven race. A city whose magnificence is surpassed by many others, predominantly Ellesmera and Silthrim" said Laetri in a bored voice, causing Arya to smile faintly as Eragon and Varda both glared at the elven princess with identical offended expressions.

"Laetri-elda, I think Tronjheim is very great! It is _inside_ a _mountain_…Belgabad thinks so too!" she said with shining eyes. Belgabad growled in agreement.

"Wait until you see Ellesmera, young one" said Arya in a mirthful voice as a doubtful look entered Varda's convinced expression. "Tronjheim is beautiful in this world, but Ellesmera is otherworldly"

….

He heard someone banging incessantly upon his door, and he went to open it. Before him stood King Orik, looking rather drunk and happy. Eragon sighed as he saw the human ambassador Lord Almen behind Orik, looking at his tankard as if it could reveal the secrets of Gramarye.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked, carefully blocking the door to deny them entrance. Orik squinted at him for a moment, and pulled out a large flagon of mead and offered it to Eragon.

"Mine…mine brother! Let ussh get drunk! What do you want? I have Faelnirv, mead, human ale weak though that is, Almen there even has some ale he shtole from Palencar's personal taproom!" declared Orik incoherently. Eragon cursed softly as he heard the voice of his apprentice behind him, her curiosity evident as she tried to see past him to his drunken foster-brother and the human ambassador.

"Orik, I need you to leave. I do not get drunk anymore, that is Saphira's forte" said Eragon quietly as he tried to shoo Orik from his quarters. He could not have Varda even think about drinking until she was of a suitable age, she was just a child. Orik blinked at him owlishly and looked at Almen.

"Almen, old friend, how can anyone not want to get…to get drunk?" he hiccupped. Almen took a few moments to comprehend the question, and then looked disbelievingly at Eragon. "My lord Shur'tugal…you must be out of your mind!" he slurred dimly.

"That is rich coming from you" muttered Eragon as he felt Varda trying just about everything to look beyond the door he was blocking. Suddenly he felt something slip under his elbow and saw his young charge look at the drunken king with a curious stare. Eragon cursed again inaudibly, Orik would definitely be a bad influence upon his young Rider what with all his drinking.

"Ebrithil, why does King Orik smell so bad?" she asked, covering her nose. Orik looked at her indignantly.

"And who might you be, young lass?"

"I am Varda" she said, giggling at being called a young lass. "Aren't Kings supposed to smell good?" she asked, further retreating from the ale-soaked king. Orik looked puzzled at the question, and Eragon lifted his hand and incanted a spell softly.

A second later, a King and Ambassador stood before him with ashamed looks and stone cold sober expressions. Almen bowed hurriedly and left for the lift mechanisms, all the while muttering about how much work he had to do. Orik was staring at Varda with a delighted face.

"So you are Eragon's young apprentice. When were you planning to present her to the dwarven court, Eragon?" he asked Eragon with a stern voice. Eragon shook his head:

"I will not" he said firmly. The risks were far too great.

"Why?" asked Varda, looking at Eragon with large eyes. "I want to see more dwarves. Blodhgarm-elda said they were the best metal smiths after the elves, that they have incredible weapons… some even above elven standards!" she exclaimed. Orik's eyes lit up at the praise as he took Varda's hand and looked at Eragon.

"Eragon, mine brother, I will show her our metalsmiths' works and methods. You will have her back in another hour or so!" he said, and Eragon saw the excitement in Varda's eyes. Before he could summarily refuse, he felt Saphira's mind touch upon his own.

_**Let her go, Eragon. She will be learning the dwarven culture from the King of the Dwarves himself! She is not an ordinary girl…she is our apprentice after all **_she said to him. Eragon considered for a moment and looked at Varda's hopeful face.

"Fine. Varda, please be careful" he said to her softly. Orik was already speaking loudly with his guards and striding towards the lifts. Eragon laughed with happiness as Varda kissed him on his cheek softly and hurried to follow Orik.

_She is so young_, thought Eragon as he drew upon magic._ She will be a worthy Rider, for she follows her heart_ he said to Saphira and with a single thought wove several wards upon his unknowing apprentice and cast his thought out to find her mischievous Dragon.

_Master? _Came Belgabad's youthful voice. Eragon responded affirmatively, knowing that the Dragon's vocabulary was still rather small. He sent images and feelings to Belgabad, directing him to find Varda and gave her current location.

_And Belgabad, if you are up to your old tricks again I would suggest that you victimize the short-beard-leader, _he said with a smiling face. Belgabad, besides being a white Dragon was a curiosity. He was ancient in his thoughts despite his youth, but also had a playfulness and propensity towards pranks that perfectly aligned with Varda's personality.

Sighing, he walked into his quarters only to find Roran and Arya awaiting him.

"What brings you here?" he asked his face sliding into impassiveness. Roran remained silent for a moment and said: "Can we talk for some time?" he asked. Eragon nodded, motioning for them to join him at his table.

"I would never do this for just anyone" he said, and summoned the bottle of Belatonian Red. With a fluid motion, he uncorked the bottle and poured its precious contents into three wine glasses. Handing two to Arya and Roran, he lifted up one himself.

"You are the picture perfect arrogant noble, Eragon" snorted Roran. Arya just watched him amusedly as he shook his head and intoned: "_Garjzla"_

A light much like sunlight streamed gently on to their table, and Eragon sighed with happiness as he admired the exquisite red colour of the contents of his glass. Then he shook himself out of his daze, and raised his glass to Roran.

"To Ismira's safety and eventual reunion with us" he said solemnly. A moment later, Roran nodded and sipped his wine as did Arya. A rapturous expression crossed Arya's face as she licked her lips and whispered:

"You were right, Eragon-elda. This wine even surpasses some varieties of our own Faelnirv" she said with appreciation. Roran did not look like he cared about the wine as he set his glass down on the table and turned to Eragon.

"Eragon…" he said with a strange tone to his voice. "I do not know how to beat around the bush like the elves, so I will just ask you for a boon"

Eragon's face registered its surprise as he too set down his glass. "I will help you with anything, Roran. You should know that" he said calmly. Arya just watched him with an intent expression.

"During the war, I lost Katrina to those thrice damned Ra'zac. But you helped me save her, you got me back my soul-mate" Roran said fervently. "But now, my daughter is gone. You said yesterday that the Shade has bound my daughter with Dark magics, that…that he has trained her in those fell arts. Tell me truly, brother…will you have to kill her to save her?" he asked in a voice of touching sorrow.

Arya's eyes widened, and her expression became one of guilt.

Eragon looked down at the floor in sorrow: "I…will be frank with you, Roran. If it is necessary, I might have to do so. I will try to avoid it as much as possible, we did save Murtagh…but this is different. She will not simply be bound in the ancient language…there are other, even more vile methods"

Roran looked shocked as he saw Eragon: "You would kill your own niece? How could you be so heartless? Do you understand what it is to lose a daughter to such a darkness, not knowing but only imagining the tortures she must be undergoing?" he asked in a dead voice. Eragon flinched, for the first time unsure about his course of action.

"I…you are right. I cannot understand…" he said. He felt only silence from Saphira and Sahloknir. He looked up in surprise as Roran banged his fist hard upon the table, looking into Eragon with burning eyes.

"You do understand, but you do not see it. I saw your apprentice" he said, making Eragon's eyes narrow. "She is so much like my Ismira was at that age…_just _like her. She even had her Dragon hatch around the same time. I see how much you love her…you may call her your apprentice, but you love her like your own daughter" he said firmly.

"I don't-" said Eragon weakly, "Do not deny it" roared Roran, and Eragon nodded slowly. It was true, after all. He saw all the younglings as his own children and reared them as such. Varda was just the same, if not even more special to him.

He saw Arya look at him with shining green eyes as he admitted to how he saw Varda, not protesting as the Elven Queen took his hand in hers gently. Roran seemed to gather himself for a moment and glared at Eragon.

"Now imagine this: your Varda is taken by some elven Shade. She is being tortured probably, and bound with foul rituals. She is _suffering_" said Roran in a lost voice.

Eragon's indigo eyes immediately began to glow with a menacing light, as did his ring _Aren_. His joy and euphoria from Varda's return vanished as rage began to flare in his heart at the horrible picture Roran painted, and he could feel the alarm of Saphira and Sahloknir.

He would _never _let such a thing happen. No one would take his Riders again, no one. Arya looked wary as magic responded to his thoughts, and a nimbus of pure white light enveloped him. The room began to shake slightly as Eragon's magic responded and _Brisingr_ burst into azure fire in its sheath.

He spoke in a quiet voice, the lights of the room flickering and the chandelier swinging ominously in its high position. His voice delivered not a threat, but a promise:

"_I will burn them, scatter their ashes and crush them to oblivion"_ he said in a deadly whisper. Roran fell to the ground writhing as Eragon's rage forced itself upon him, and Arya withstood the onslaught with effort. Even with Firnen aiding her, she could only barely throw off the effect of the lead rider's rage. The force of Eragon's emotions smote her barriers like thunder and lightning, and she found herself shaking slightly.

"Eragon, enough" she said with gritted teeth. Eragon only stood there with closed eyes and a stone cold face, _Brisingr_ burning bright within its sheath, responding to its wielder's anger. Suddenly the onslaught ceased as Eragon seemed to master himself and everything returned to tranquillity.

He stared at Roran who had gone down to the ground with a pained face, and Arya who was staring at him with an expression that pained him in return: incredulous awe and _fear_. He could not stand that for some reason, he could not stand _her_ fearing him and Roran hurt by his actions.

"I understand now" he said quietly, calming himself slowly. He revived Roran with a simple spell and continued: "I understand perfectly" he said, and relief seemed to bloom on Roran's face followed by guilt.

"But please do not use Varda once more to make me understand such things. I will find and save Ismira, and I will not kill her" he said with certainty.

"I will not kill Ismira" he repeated in the ancient language. Roran sighed and nodded with extreme relief. Eragon retreated slowly, not looking at either of them. Roran's words about Varda had sparked a fear in his heart that he did not need now, and he was sure Arya saw that fear.

"I am sorr-" began Roran, but Eragon interrupted him. "I must go. I need to consider certain things" he said stiffly and walked off towards the training grounds. The Rimgar had always managed to calm him, always.

His return to Alagaesia was beginning to be fraught with danger, and he was going to have to protect his still-young Riders from threats only he had ever faced and defeated. This time, he would not let his enemies choose the fight. If they dared to break Alagaesia's peace so hard won, he would erase them.

_**Your rage is like the rage of Dragons, little one**_came Saphira's voice to him lightly, as she noticed his train of thought. _**You came close to losing control there. Even Firnen has become wary after feeling the strength of our mind. I believe you have succeeded in making Arya cautious of you**_**.**

The images his mind had conjured at Roran's words would not leave him alone. The fact was that he knew better than anyone how truly malicious spirits could be, he knew better even than Arya what they were capable of. The floodgates opened, letting the smallest of his memories of that time flow into their bond…

_**What!**_echoed Saphira's voice, and he sealed up the part of him that was empty after taking the torment of Spirits for so long. Eragon gained control of himself, with a shiver taking him as he thought of what Saphira had almost seen. He would keep that part of his life from everybody, no matter the cost.

_**What was that?**_ Asked Saphira in a forceful voice. _**I do wish you would share with me what happened during that time, little one. I only felt the effects…I do not know what happened to make you-**_

_You have no idea what it is that you ask for_, _my lovely Saphira _whispered Eragon in a haunted voice causing Saphira to stop dead. _You can see the truth of my words and understand me better than anyone else: So I tell you, you do not want to see what happened to me during that time. The thought of Varda undergoing the same…_

His rage saturated their bond again, and even Saphira drew back slightly in shock of it. He could feel Sahloknir drawing back as well, for Eragon had never unleashed such a rage in himself. Eragon shook his head slightly and relaxed his grip around Brisingr's hilt.

Saphira kept quiet, and Eragon knew she was thinking about his extreme reactions. His calmness and composure had been a rock of support for the entire order, and for many years now Saphira had not felt such anger flow through him.

They were well into the night, and the training grounds were empty. Sleep had eluded him for decades, or at least the waking sleep of elvenkind. Not that he needed it anymore, for he much preferred the night to the day.

The night was quiet and did not hold the distractions of the day. The night was perfect for contemplation and study…Aiedail had adopted that from him and his city was fully awake through the entire night. A wave of homesickness swept through him at the thought of Aiedail, of all the Riders he was responsible for.

_I hope they are fine_, he thought to himself as he smoothly flowed into the fluid dance of the Rimgar. His body flickered through impossibly complex stances effortlessly, and his solitary form was illuminated gently by the Erisdar lanterns.

….

"Roran Stronghammer, it is obvious that you have kept your appalling lack of tact since the war. Elven restraint would do you good" said Laetri in a cutting voice, causing Roran to frown. Laetri had arrived within moments, and Sahloknir was deep in conference with Saphira.

Laetri sat in Eragon's deserted chair looking at Roran with an almost condescending stare. Roran could not meet her ice-blue eyes for long, and fidgeted uncomfortably before he simply said: "I need my daughter back. Eragon is the best chance that she has, we both know it. I had to make him understand"

"Foolish" said Laetri, shaking her head at this. "He already has committed himself to rescuing her. You should not put more burdens on him, he bears enough already"

Roran's face took on a slight expression of guilt, before it firmed. "My daughter is more important to me than the entirety of Alagaesia, Laetri svit-kona. My family is foremost to me. The rest of Alagaesia can burn as long as they are safe!" he finished, a look of resolve upon his face.

Laetri's eyes darkened as she tightened her grip upon the goblet she held. Arya looked at Roran with a slightly shocked expression, not expecting those words from Roran Stronghammer of all people.

"That is where Eragon-elda differs from you" she said coldly. "He holds to an ideal much higher, much greater. Family is fickle, Stronghammer, you will learn that sad truth when you meet Ismira. Know this, though. If she in any way mortally threatens Eragon-elda or my fellow Riders, I will not hesitate to harm her!"

_Nor will we, _echoed Sahloknir's and Firnen's voices in their minds.

With that, Laetri walked out of the dead silent room. Arya nodded to Roran, who seemed sunk once more in his despair. She could imagine his sufferings, but to become so self-absorbed led to nothing good. She knew he needed to be alone, and thus she followed Laetri.

Walking briskly, she caught up to Laetri who was looking at the city arrayed below them with a thoughtful expression. Silence reigned as the two observed the beautiful city of Tronjheim from their vantage point of Isidar Mithrim. The city of marble shone brighter than ever, its symmetric construction lending a sense of majesty and order that pleased the beholder greatly.

The light of several Erisdar lanterns illuminated them and the city below, and the faces of the two elven women glowed faintly with it. A slight wind blew, buffeting Laetri as she turned to speak to Arya.

"I do not regret my words, Arya. I will still do anything necessary to protect Eragon-elda and the Riders, even though it may break my heart to harm a fellow Rider" she said in a hard voice.

Arya could not help but notice how Laetri placed Eragon before the Riders, more evidence of Laetri's true feelings. "That I can understand well", she replied and fell into an uneasy silence as she looked at Isidar Mithrim and all the memories it brought.

She shivered slightly, Gil'ead still haunted her at times.

"You must not think about Durza anymore, Arya" Laetri murmured with concern, standing beside Arya in a moment. Arya's eyes widened before they narrowed at Laetri.

"I do not appreciate having my mind so easily pilfered without my consent" she said sharply. Laetri shook her head, her long silver hair rippling as she did so.

"I can only hear fringes of your emotions, you know. This was where Durza was slain by Eragon, was it not?" she asked, looking around them and up at the Star Rose. Arya sighed, and also glanced at the Rose.

"I broke that decoration up there, shattered it to pieces to distract Durza. He had already given Eragon that accursed wound…I just knew, even back then, that I could not see him die" she said nostalgically. Laetri held up her right hand in front of her face, looking at the ring of gold that it bore.

"Shades, they are an abomination. How will you respond to this Elven Shade, your Majesty?" she asked, addressing the Elven queen and not Arya Shur'tugal.

_Eragon was wise to refuse the crown, _she thought. _These two roles are wearying even me after a hundred years. However, my reign is coming to an end…Queen Dellanir saw farther and deeper than we believed._

_You are a Rider first and foremost, Arya. Dellanir's wisdom has saved us from an eternity of ruling over those cold marble statues you call kin _said Firnen in her mind.

Arya's eyes danced with amusement at Firnen's words and she truly agreed with his statements. She had reached a decision after she had awoken, a decision about which duty she held most important. Her people were now a long way from the crisis-filled days of the war, her duty was done.

"I will not be Queen for much longer, Laetri Svit-Kona" said Arya quietly, watching the silver-haired elf's surprised face. A second later, Laetri smiled fully and hugged Arya gently. After a moment of stiffness, Arya hugged her back as well…she was still not used to such emotional displays.

The only person she had ever hugged with such frequency was Eragon. It all centered on him…Arya never ceased to be amazed with how Eragon touched so many races and lives with his actions, changed the course of history with such resounding permanence.

"I am happy for you, Arya. I could see in you that the Crown had become a burden for you, as it should not be. I am glad my Mother's laws have come to the fore; Riders are not meant to rule. We are simply the balance" she said in a warm voice.

"Your mother was wise, Laetri svit-kona. I guided Elvendom out of a chaotic time but I could not have my loyalties divided for much longer. This I understood when the Yawe faded completely after I woke yesterday. It has been fading erratically for many years now" she said with a faint sense of satisfaction.

Laetri squeezed her hand gently, and resumed looking at Tronjheim.

"Eragon will be pleased at this news. You will be a welcome addition to the Order, Princess Arya. Your skill and power is second to none among the Nine" she said with a glad tone.

"Thank you" said Arya, bowing her head. "But you surpass me by much, Laetri svit-kona. I still do not think I could defeat someone like Formora in combat the way you did. Your skill far exceeds mine" she said, bending her pride enough to tell the truth.

Laetri laughed melodiously, the dulcet tones of her joy falling pleasantly even upon her ears. She looked at Arya with a distant face still tinged with her amusement:

"When you were a child, Arya, I was able to draw you out of your melancholia as I tutored you in Gramarye. But now, you have grown into a stunningly beautiful young woman…you have become a powerful queen and Elf, not to mention a worthy Rider. You have fulfilled every expectation I ever had of you as your teacher" she said with feeling, and Arya's eyes expressed a thousand emotions at these words.

"It is good to get approval from one you respect so much" she said softly. Laetri inclined her head, and spoke:

"I was not happy to be teaching a child at first, when I felt I could do so much more" she murmured and Arya nodded, she did know the feeling well from her experiences; The feeling of being held back. Laetri continued speaking, looking at her seriously.

"I know you feel you do not truly belong anywhere, even after a century of ruling our people. I can see it in your bearing. But we are your kin, we Riders, more so than any race upon Alagaesia. Your Yawe has faded, but so will the suffering it has brought down upon you. Eventually." said Laetri firmly.

Arya nodded, and accompanied Laetri as she went towards the descent mechanism that traversed Vol Turin.

"I am truly glad we met again, Laetri svit-kona" she murmured. "Truly glad, indeed"


	10. Chapter 10

**My latest update. I would be grateful if I got more reviews, it helps me cater to the wishes of a wider selection of readers. Thank you for reading!**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 10

"I sense that you are less than satisfied with the arrangement, Barristan Shur'tugal. Well, that seems a mouthful. Do I have your permission to call you Barristan?" asked King Palencar lightly, as they walked through the halls of Illirea. Morning light filtered through the high windows and gave a new perspective to the beautiful paintings that adorned the walls.

Barristan liked the mornings here in Illirea, they were so fresh and full of life. He had missed being in a human city. A beautifully detailed painting caught his eye, a painting of a young man holding up a sapphire coloured blade of glowing blue fire. The sword was beautiful, yet elegant and deadly…Barristan recognized the colour of the scales and only one dragon in the world possessed that colour.

"Shur'tugal?" asked Palencar, his sight falling upon the mural as well. Barristan tore his eyes away from the painting, the young man in it seemed somewhat familiar. He heard Cirnathor's amused derision as he turned to the king.

"Call me Barristan, Majesty. And I am perfectly fine with the assignment. Nuada is far wiser than me and I am sure he has a reason for choosing me" said Barristan. Palencar nodded at his words.

"I am sure that he does" he said, glancing up once more at the painting of the brown-eyed man with the sword of fire. "I see you are absorbed by the painting of your master, Barristan. He has changed enormously over the years, but that is how my mother remembered him. And that is how he was painted on to the wall...a symbol for all of us to hold close to our hearts" he finished solemnly.

"I never knew his sword looked like that" said Barristan softly. "It is so…unique. It suits him". Palencar nodded, interested by this piece of information. Why would the Shadeslayer not reveal that sword to his students? He slowly ran his hand over the wine-red blade that he wore at his side.

The very blade that earned Eragon Shur'tugal the title of Shadeslayer. This was the blade that stabbed into Durza's black heart and won the old Varden the battle of Farthen Dur. The blade he wore at his side was fitting for a King, and it bespoke of the story of three very different Riders.

And him.

"Have you truly never seen _Brisingr?_" asked Palencar idly, smoothing the front of the elegant elven silk robe he wore. Barristan shook his head as they walked through the ornate and empty corridor reserved for royalty alone.

"I am afraid not, your Majesty. Ebrithil has not drawn _Brisingr_ openly for many decades now. I have always wondered why, but I never asked. Many of the Riders of my generation have never seen him in combat. I have always wished to spar with him…" said Barristan in a distant voice. Palencar grinned at this…he could always use some practice. Being King often gave him toadies who would rather lose to him than offend him, the opportunity to test himself was quite rare.

"My dear Rider, I think I can satisfy your need for a spar" he said, as they neared his personal training room. Courteously, he opened a door, gesturing for Barristan to enter. The excitement in the young Rider's eyes only increased as he saw the perfect facilities the king commanded.

Rows of weapons adorned every side of the arena, which was well lit by a skylight from the high ceiling. The walls were of a milky marble, but the training area was of a durable wood.

_No doubt it was sung into shape by elven magicians_, came Cirnathor's voice to him. Barristan nodded, tree-singing was never his talent. Palencar looked at his amazed face with satisfaction.

"Have you completed the morning's Rimgar?" he questioned solicitously. Barristan looked at the king with shocked eyes…Rimgar was a routine reserved only for Alfakyn and Shur'tugal. He certainly did not expect for the King to know of it.

"I have. But how-?"

"I was taught it, by a man I admire deeply" said Palencar as his eyes narrowed with concentration. Barristan drew his sword with a steely sound, and Palencar immediately saw that the young Rider was a very competent swordsman.

It was an ordinary sword…so he had not acquired a Rider's blade yet. But Palencar was certain he would have found a temporary solution at the least to the quandary, so he unhesitatingly drew his blade. The silence in the bright arena grew even more as Barristan's eyes widened considerably.

"This is Zar'roc" he said, his eyes shining with an excitement and focus that belied his age. "Let us fight, Barristan" he said loudly, and pivoted through the air with great dexterity. Their swords met with a clang, and Barristan pushed the king back with an effort.

_This two-legs is different, Barristan._

_I know_, he said as he launched himself at Palencar as fast as he could. Their blades met each other in quick succession, too quick for even the most observant human eye. Barristan narrowly avoided being decapitated, and charged Palencar with a series of rapid blows to his right side, which were blocked well.

Then with a roar he spun and brought the blade to the King's left side, it whistling through the air. His eyes became round as Palencar dodged his slash with fluidity, bending so far that his chest was parallel to the ground. With ease, the King flipped like an acrobat and landed on his feet with a smile.

They held their swords to the side and circled each other. Palencar with a calm but competitive expression, and Barristan focusing with his entire mind. This King fought unlike any other opponent he had sparred with, and his speed and strength were definitely close to Elven.

How-?_Concentrate, Barristan! I will not have my Rider defeated because his head was in the clouds!_ Snapped Cirnathor. Barristan nodded and readied himself for the next bout.

They rushed to meet at the center of their prowling, exchanging blows with such strength that sparks flew between them. Barristan watched as Palencar caught his swing neatly upon his blade with a smirk and nearly got hit as the King's leg rose to greet his face.

"Alright, that does it" muttered Barristan as the King watched him with a taunting expression. He slid into the first stance of the modified Rimgar of his Ebrithil, holding his sword parallel to the ground behind him. Even this new Rimgar of Eragon Shadeslayer had levels.

So far he had managed to master the traditional Rimgar and barely the first stage of the new Rimgar. _It will have to do_, said Cirnathor surely. _Center yourself, Barristan, just like Ebrithil taught us. The sword is you, you are the sword. This King is good, but you are as good. Flow through the stances, Barristan._

Peace enveloped Barristan as he looked calmly at the King, who rushed him with forceful swings of Zar'roc. But Barristan blocked every swing with a flick and turn of his own sword, feeling the magic that held it together weaken at the hammering it was taking.

He twisted and turned, weaving through every quick slash of Zar'roc and blocking them with his own sword. The Rimgar aided him as he incorporated its stances in his fight, only defending and not attacking. It was past time to end this fight, and he ducked under Palencar's thrust to perform a manoeuvre that was rightfully Yaela's. He drew his arm back and swung so hard at Palencar that the King staggered slightly when he blocked, and Barristan used that very small window of time to smoothly turn and simultaneously toss the hilt of his sword to his left hand all behind his back.

An instant later, his sword was at Palencar's throat and so too was Palencar's at his. Barristan sighed disappointedly as he sheathed his sword with a quick motion…A draw, he could not even beat a human. No wonder Alanna had defeated him so easily.

"An excellent fight, Barristan" said the King with a cheerful voice. "Ah, do not fret. I am not your average human King, you know. You are excellent at the arts of swordsmanship. If I may I ask, what was that last move?"

Barristan walked behind the King as they strode towards the throne room. His tunic and robes dripped with sweat but Palencar was as pristine as ever. Elves and their cleverness, snorted Barristan to himself as he replied:

"A move I borrowed from a fellow Rider, your Majesty" he said, and Palencar nodded. "Now, If I may ask a question in return…how did you come to possess the blade of Murtagh Morzansson? My Ebrithil was often in want of news of Murtagh" stated Barristan, barely concealing his eagerness.

"Murtagh…" sighed Palencar. "He is many things to many people. Tell your Ebrithil Murtagh is alive as is his Dragon, Thorn. And as for how I acquired Zar'roc…it is a tale that must wait until after I meet with the Urgal ambassador, I am afraid"

"Oh, Urgal ambassador?" asked Barristan curiously. "Can I accompany you, majesty? I have never seen a real Urgal before" he said sheepishly as they paused at the massive doors to the throne room.

"No shame in that, old boy" said Palencar in a jolly tone as he clapped Barristan in a comradely fashion. "You will be seeing a lot more of them than is healthy for us humans, I fear. But they do have a certain endearing straightforwardness, I suppose. An Urgal tells you something like he sees it…unlike those convoluted elves" he said dryly.

"Well-"

_Majesty, I know you are just behind the doors. Hoping that the Urgal ambassador will go away with your lateness will not work once more. He is stubborn to see you, and he is quite willing to wait! _Came Barden's admonishment to their ears.

Barristan looked with amusement at the rather embarrassed King. For someone who was so experienced, Palencar was all too easy to confuse with a scheming youth.

"I guess it cannot be helped" said Palencar in a tired voice. "That trick has gotten old, I suppose. Let us go greet the great Yarghra son of Yarbog then, Barristan. Assuming he does not make me faint with his guttural bellows" said the King sardonically making Barristan grin.

It was good to be back among humans, even if for a short while.

….

Eragon turned as the door opened slowly, watching as Arya quietly made her way to him. She was as beautiful as ever, wearing a grey tunic and leggings and a simple silver girdle. Closer examination made him conclude that Tamerlein had been modified slightly to suit her needs.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin, Eragon-elda" said Arya softly, inclining her head to Eragon who responded in like. They both turned to Varda who was struggling to access the magic within her, trying to manipulate fire. Eragon watched her sadly as he saw only her fascination with the beauty of fire. He hated to teach children the tools of violence so early, but Roran's imaginings had ignited a fiery caution in his heart for his apprentice's safety.

"I believe you should not let children play with fire, Eragon" said Arya with slight amusement as she saw Varda murmur "_Brisingr_" over and over again, sometimes igniting a small fire in her palm. Eragon favoured her with a small smile as he went to Varda and knelt to face her.

"Varda" he said, and she looked at him with frustrated eyes. Eragon saw Arya watching out of the corner of his eye as he laid a hand on Varda's shoulder, projecting to her feelings of calm and focus. He smiled as her erratic breathing grew even, and spoke:

"You are trying too hard" he said softly. "This is not the regimen…you must not _force_ the magic" he said gently. Varda nodded, feeling the tranquillity he projected. Eragon knew the younglings' impatience all too well, they wanted things too fast and did not care how they got there.

"Look around" said Eragon, pointing to his large hall with all its pillars and gems. Varda looked with a perplexed face, as Eragon continued. "All this exists because of magic. Magic is the thing that holds reality together, an unexplainable force that we are privileged enough to use" he said, trying to convey to her the preciousness of Gramarye. The precocious child seemed to understand, and nodded with wonder as new thoughts seemed to bloom.

"So" he said, releasing his grip upon her shoulder. "It is not something to be forced. It is something to be guided gently and respected, for it is a power far greater than us. You must be patient, Varda"

"I will, Ebrithil" said the young Rider as she closed her eyes. Eragon smiled as he saw his young apprentice enter the trance of meditation, very pleased that she had grasped his words and directions so quickly. He walked back to Arya and saw her staring at Varda with an unreadable face. She looked at him as he approached her, and Eragon noted a faint sense of longing as she glanced occasionally at Varda.

"You teach very well, Eragon" she said in a distant voice and seemed to gather herself immediately. "I came to ask if you were alright…yesterday's conversations were taxing for all of us" she said in a tone of concern.

"It will take Varda some time to ignite the fire" he said, glancing at Varda who seemed to be searching for the magic within her. Arya nodded, and followed Eragon out of his quarters as they strode outside the Dragonkeep. The dwarves were bustling about in Tronjheim, far below their position.

They watched silently as they stood beside each other under the Star Rose where their story had truly begun a hundred odd years ago. Eragon's memories flashed as he walked towards the centre of the large hall, remembering his and Durza's duel to the death.

"This place…it is where I truly proved myself for the first time" said Eragon as Arya joined him. "I remember how Saphira breathed fire here and how you broke the Isidar Mithrim to distract Durza. I remember how I set Zar'roc alight and ended Durza, I remember the pain of my cleaved back" he said with a haunted voice.

"I remember as well" said Arya quietly. "But you did not answer my question, Eragon"

"I am fine, your Majesty" he said in a cool tone, causing Arya to look at him with the barest anger showing itself on her face. "It was just something I needed to mull upon. I am fine now, you can be assured I will not fly off the handle like I did yesterday"

Arya strode briskly towards him, and gripped his hand strongly. "Eragon, we are friends are we not?"

Eragon took time to consider the question, which seemed to hurt Arya. "We definitely are" he replied with a sure voice, and Arya looked at him square in the eyes.

"Then I must tell you two things" she said. To Eragon, she seemed to be gathering resolve and courage as she chose her words.

"Firstly, I wish you would stop addressing me as the Queen. I am still Arya, the elf you rescued in Gil'ead when no one did, the elf you stood by when she was beset by grief…and the one true friend in all her tribulations. I am Arya. It feels strange when you are so formal with me" she said, with shining eyes.

Eragon found himself lost in her emerald eyes and in her words. Arya, it seemed, had changed tremendously from the war…she seemed so much more open with her feelings. Again the bitter irony of the situation struck: Arya was the one reaching out to him now, and he was the one guarding his heart from her. She was something he could never have, fate had seen to that a long time ago.

"Call me _Arya_, Eragon" she said in her soft melodious voice and looking at him with large eyes. Eragon slowly raised his hand, tucking her raven hair behind her ears. He felt Saphira's encouragement run through him in a torrent, giving him the courage to utter her name.

It did not escape his notice that Arya had closed her eyes at his touch, and her breathing was so very slightly uneven. Eragon bent to whisper in her ear, bracing himself for the inevitable needles of loss that would tear him apart when he said her name.

"_Arya"_ he said, and blinked as he felt the same as before. Saphira roared in utter joy, her happiness saturating his very being. There was no pain, none at all. He closed his eyes, and opened them after a moment to stare at Arya's beautiful green eyes.

"_Arya" _he said again, savouring the name as it rolled off his tongue. Arya shivered as she pressed Eragon's hand to her cheek with her own, as joy burst in her heart at how much feeling Eragon put behind her name. No longer was he cold, treating her as just another Drottning.

Sahloknir's and Saphira's joy combined with his own, and a tear slid down his face as he felt himself changing. A very delicate hand wiped the tear off his cheek, and he saw Arya's hand caressing his face gently. In the scant morning light of Farthen Dur, Eragon could appreciate once more the beauty and power Arya held within and felt as if his twisted soul was somehow _freeing_ itself a little, bringing him an appreciation and tranquillity that was missing for decades now.

"_Arya, my dear friend"_ he said in the ancient language and the Lead Rider's eyes to widen as she slowly laid her head on his chest. Eragon enfolded her within his arms and knew that somehow, inexplicably, a part of the gaping void in his soul had been filled. He felt _something_ for Arya…nowhere near to what he once felt for her, of that he was sure. But it was there.

"The second thing?" he asked of the woman he held to his chest. Arya looked up at him, and smiled. "The second thing, Eragon, is that you must remember just how easily I could read you. I can still do so to a certain extent" she said in a light voice, her heart pounding as she stood in his warm embrace.

"I will, Arya" he said, for some reason running his hand through her silky raven locks. He had no idea why he was still drawn to her this way…he had quite literally killed his feelings for her.

_**Remember Valdr's words, Eragon. Nothing dies…it is only transformed to suit the needs of the universe. There is no death, there is only change, **_echoed Saphira's words in his mind.

A shrill scream cut off his train of thought, and he turned to see smoke emerging from his room. Nodding to Arya, he ran with her to open the door as fear claimed his heart.

Varda had set his room on fire. It seemed that his instruction had been a little too effective as fire raged about Varda, not harming her only because of the wards he had set on her earlier. The world rippled as Arya spoke the Name of Names, cutting Varda's connection to the spell and causing it to die out immediately.

_**Eragon! How could you leave her there to practice with fire, while you and Arya did…did whatever you two were doing! You know exactly how curious Varda is!**_, berated Saphira. Eragon did not reply, instead rushing to the panting girl who was looking at her Gedwey Ignasia with awe.

"Varda! Thank the ancient Dragons you are fine!" said Eragon in an urgent voice, looking her over for injuries. Varda looked down shamefacedly, speaking in a small voice:

"S-Sorry, Ebrithil. I was…I was curious as to what would happen if one combined _Thrysta_ with _Brisingr_" she said. Eragon's eyes widened at this, as did Arya's…this girl was a walking disaster.

"That was dangerous, Varda, very dangerous" said Eragon in a stern tone, making Varda look at him with sad and apologetic eyes. Eragon's eyes glowed and the remnants of the fire died out silently. He looked at Varda with such concern that Arya came to him and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"You must not use random words of power until I am there to supervise you, do you understand?" he asked harshly, and Varda nodded.

"Yes, Ebrithil" she said in a smaller voice. Eragon suddenly gathered her up in a hug, making her eyes widen at her Ebrithil's extremely uncharacteristic display of emotion. "Don't ever do that again, Varda" he said to the young Rider, who nodded against his chest. He could see the myriad emotions in Arya's eyes as he comforted Varda…and himself.

But confusion raged in Eragon's heart at this new change in himself he could not understand. _Where is all this emotion coming from?_ He asked himself, Saphira, the world itself.

_**You are healing slowly, Eragon. I can at last see in you a hint of how you used to be before that day…you are healing, **_said Saphira's thankful voice in his mind. Sahloknir's voice echoed in all their minds, except in Varda's. His expression turned grave as the golden Dragon announced:

_Ebrithil, you and the Elven queen must come soon and meet with King Orik. Laetri is already here_…_An elf has been killed in Tarnag, _he finished with a slight outrage leaking out of his deep voice.

_We will come, Sahloknir._

"Varda, take my hand" said Eragon, and Arya saw the impassiveness steal over his face as it did over hers. She offered him her hand and he took it as well.

_Meet us there, Saphira._

It had begun, and his instincts and Saphira's told him this was only the beginning. They felt darkness in the future…but he would not let it grow or fester. A blast of Indigo light hit the huge hall everywhere, and when it cleared they had disappeared from sight.

It had begun.

…

Orik's chambers seemed oppressive, even its opulence serving to heighten the gloom it held.

"Eragon, you are here!" exclaimed Orik as a bright flash of indigo light revealed Eragon and Arya with Varda. Laetri came to stand opposite Eragon, examining his face quite thoroughly. Then a smile bloomed across her face as she said in a low, grateful voice:

"You have changed"

Eragon nodded solemnly, feeling more at peace than ever. He turned as Arya faced to Orik seriously, her eyes flashing with hidden anger. It was understandable, for an elf had not died at the hands of the other races since Galbatorix's death. This event occurring now signified a dark change in the patterns of fate, and they all knew it.

"Orik Konungr, I hear an Alfakyn was killed at Tarnag. Will you please elaborate?" she asked, coldness seeping into her voice. Orik stared at her for a moment, and then sighed.

"I deserve the hostility" he said sadly "Mine people entered into the Accord of the Races in good faith, and now this has happened. Will you be voiding the accord now, Queen Arya?" asked Orik. Arya did not relent.

"That remains to be seen. But I would like to know…who of my people was killed in Tarnag?" she asked, her fist clenching imperceptibly. Laetri and Eragon stood quietly, choosing not to interfere in a matter that did not have a hand in, as of now. Varda was staring at the monarchs with innocently surprised eyes and Eragon saw her forming opinions rapidly.

"It is my place to answer, Majesty" said Vanir, stepping into the room, acknowledging those who were present with a bow. Arya turned her attention to Vanir, and said: "I wish for answers now, ambassador"

"It was Damitha" said Vanir in a rush. Arya gripped Tamerlein's hilt hard, and the name echoed in Eragon's head familiarly. Vanir continued, his eyebrows slanted with anger.

"She was there as a representative of our race, but she was also helping me clandestinely to investigate Az Sweldn rak Anhuin. She was a strong warrior, a veteran of the battle of Illirea where King Evandar fought…I cannot imagine any dwarf being strong enough to kill her" he said sorrowfully. Arya said nothing, and Eragon saw her trying to contain her grief…Saphira's voice echoed in his head, _**Eragon, we must respond. I have a feeling this reaches much deeper than what we have heard today.**_

Eragon acknowledged the fact, and laid a hand on Varda's shoulders for he felt the slightest of trembles from her. _Calm yourself, young one. You will understand much about nations and their rulers if you just observe how they act. You can leave if this distresses you…_

Varda shook her head and stood her ground, making Eragon proud and sad. She was too young, but it was her duty. Sometimes he hated that word but it was his lifeblood.

"No, neither can I" said Arya in a hard voice. "I will not let this pass, King Orik" she said to Orik with anger leaking from her voice. "Damitha was a great friend of mine, and a great asset to our nation. If Az Sweldn rak Anhuin is found to be responsible, the Alfakyn will make the dwarven nation pay" she declared with steel in her voice. Eragon could see just how much this death distressed her…even to the extent that it swayed her judgement.

Orik's anger now erupted at the direct threat to his nation. Eragon watched quietly as the discussion devolved into thinly veiled threatening. Laetri frowned at Arya's lapse, for the Elven Queen was a consummate politician.

"Oh you will, will you? Elves, always the same. Blaming entire races for the actions of a few. It is not like I expected anything more from you, Arya Drottning. Like mother, like daughter" said Orik in a cutting voice as he gripped Volund in his right hand.

"What are you implying?" whispered Arya as her emerald eyes flashed with her anger and distress. Orik looked into her eyes, both monarchs challenging each other in a contest of wills.

"Islanzadi was the same when she cut off support to the Varden during your capture" said Orik scathingly. "Now you threaten mine people with war because of the death of your comrade! How is this fair?" he demanded.

Tamerlein left its sheath with a whistle, and a shocked Orik immediately raised Volund. Arya's cold voice filled the room as she glared at Orik: "Fair? You talk to me about fair? My race has not had children for a century, now. We do not breed indiscriminately like you dwarves!"

Orik made to reply, but Arya's raised hand stopped him.

"The elf your kinsmen killed, she was special! She was with child, with the very first elf-child to be born after the Dark King's fall…and she was killed in Tarnag where the Accord guaranteed safety. That she was even sent was a proof of our trust in the Dwarven Kingdoms and it has been broken most abominably!" she said in a voice of ice. Eragon's eyes widened, this was going a little too far. Killing an Elf maid with child… the very depravity of the act convinced him that he had returned in time.

_**This is truly deplorable**_ said Saphira, with regret dripping from her voice._** Such cruelty...Eragon, we must intervene if this threatens to get out of hand. We might even have to summon Riders from Aiedail to keep the peace.**_

_No, Saphira. No more Riders will enter Alagaesia. Aiedail will be kept safe until it is strong enough to weather all assaults...it is our highest duty, given to us by the Eldunarya _said Eragon to his Dragon.

Orik stared with absolute surprise, and then grief overtook his face as he bowed his head in apology to Arya, and then to Vanir and Laetri. "If mine Kinsmen are responsible, then they will not be spared. You have mine word, upon Volund I swear it" he said gravely.

The elven Queen inclined her head and the first hints of apology showed in her expressive green eyes. _Perhaps that was a little excessive,_ murmured Firnen gently as Arya apologized to Orik who waved it away.

"I would act the same if not worse" he said gruffly. "I thank you for your restraint, Queen Arya. I know that the past rulers of your Race would not be so patient after such a crime" he said gratefully. Silence reigned, and Eragon knew that the one reason Arya had showed relative restraint was that there was no proof that Az Sweldn rak Anhuin was responsible. It was all circumstantial.

"Who was the father?" asked Laetri quietly, and Eragon and even Varda looked at the Elf queen. Vanir's face became even more alarmed as he considered this question, and Arya bowed her head in seeming defeat. After a few moments of silence she answered, sheathing Tamerlein and replying in a despairing voice:

"_Lord Fiolr"_

"Barzul" swore Orik loudly. Saphira's alarm flooded Eragon's mind, as did Sahloknir's. Fiolr was an elf-lord of great power and he was not going to forgive this easily, if at all. Laetri looked at him and as usual, they did not need words or even mind-speech to communicate such was the degree to which they understood each other.

"We must retrieve the late Captain's mortal remains before Lord Fiolr receives this news, and convey them to Ellesmera. Fiolr is an ancient elf-lord and his wrath will be terrible if he confronts the dwarves as he sees his mate's body" he said in a decisive voice.

Arya rose, looking at them all with haunted eyes.

"This is true" she said "We must go to Tarnag and retrieve her body. The elven nation will mourn for many years after this…this atrocity. Darkness has been unleashed this day by dwarves, and it will be hard to contain"

She turned to Eragon with a questioning look.

"I must do this myself. Anything else will be discourtesy…she deserves my respect. Can you transport me there, Eragon-elda?" she asked in a sincere voice. Eragon nodded, and Laetri's face firmed in her resolve.

"I will" he said, and stood tall.

"I have sworn the oaths of Anurin, and I hereby assume the ancient duty of the Riders to preserve the peace of Alagaesia", he said with the authority and strength of Vrael himself. Arya inclined her head in assent along with Orik and Vanir as Eragon openly involved himself in Alagaesian affairs once more.

"I will accompany you, for I must pass judgement personally if mine people are involved" said Orik seriously. "Give me two hours to set mine affairs in order. We will leave at dusk this day, if you are amenable. And Vanir, will you be joining us?"

"Of course" said Vanir, masking his anger with a typical elven manner. "Captain Damitha was well known to me, and was my mentor for a time. I will come"

"Let us then prepare" said Eragon, as he ushered Varda who was awed by the intensity of their discussions. Eragon often found younglings to be accepting and resilient, and Varda was more so than most.

"We meet in exactly three hours at the Dragonhold to leave for Tarnag" he said calmly. Laetri accompanied him and Varda, and he saw Arya look at him with hesitant and grief filled eyes. He reached out to her with compassion, and spoke in her mind:

_As I am your friend, so too are you mine Arya. Everything you said to me I will say back to you. Do not shoulder this burden by yourself, please, not when you have other Riders at your side. _

Arya gave him a long look, but walked towards him with sorrow leaking off her every action. Laetri put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and the three Riders felt the comfort and reassurance of their Dragons.

…

King Palencar was frankly getting quite tired of the Urgal's guttural and rather overbearing voice. He had dealt with Yarghra many times in the past decade, but this time he found himself bored _and _irritated. The Urgal ambassador, it seemed, was very close to giving him ultimatums in his own halls.

"….is reasonable. We henceforth demand that Carvahall and surrounding regions be ceded to us so our rams can remain peaceful. Firesword promised us more land-"

"And it was given" cut in Palencar. "Much of the spine was ceded to your race, and we were assured that it would be enough for the next few centuries. The moment your race attacked Carvahall, we have become wary of you"

Yarghra laughed derisively, his guttural laughter grating on Palencar like nothing else. As he looked around the large throne room, he saw the Lords and Nighthawks ready to draw swords. Only the Riders held their peace as they stood on either side of his throne, though he saw Barristan's hand twitch towards his weapon.

"You have only one person to blame for the current situation, King Palencar!" declared Yarghra almost hysterically. Palencar raised an eyebrow at this rather uncharacteristic behaviour of the Urgal…he was a brute, true, but he was a refined brute if that made any sense.

"Who is the newest candidate chosen to heap your troubles on?" enquired Palencar curiously. Barden's mouth twitched, and so too did Ildarien's. Yarghra looked taken aback for a moment at the king's apathetic attitude and then roared:

"Eragon Shadeslayer!"

The silence in the throne room was palpable and the Riders went rigid at this accusation. Palencar leaned forward with an openly exasperated expression.

"Really now, Yarghra. Please tell me what convoluted reason Nar Garzhvog has cooked up for this current theory of his. Last time it was the elves, and before that it was us I believe. Then for some reason two years ago he started on dwarves…and now, Eragon Shadeslayer?" asked Palencar, and this time the tension was diffused as grins broke out in the hall amongst the lords and even the Riders.

"You may mock us" ground out Yarghra standing up to his full height of seven and a half feet.

"But Firesword is to blame. He saw fit to include us in that blasted Rider bond, and the Ugralgra have benefited and suffered at the same time. We have two Riders-"

"If I may speak, Majesty" said Nuada, cutting into the Urgal's guttural harangue. Palencar nodded and all eyes turned to the elf as he spoke in his musical and quiet voice: "We wish to know what has happened to the Riders of the Ugralgra. You have not sent them to Aiedail as agreed so long ago with Blodhgarm, so the Riders wish to know if you will honour your agreement with us"

Yarghra scowled at him. "Our Riders are our own. They have chosen to stay with us, as have their Dragons"

"I see" murmured Nuada as he stepped back to stand beside Leya. "We will deal with this later. Please continue with your...uh, speech?" asked Nuada doubtfully. Yarghra glared at him, his chain armour clinking as he shook with rage. Palencar shot Nuada a small smile which was returned in kind.

"Yarghra, let us now conclude the rather impolite session I have had to endure with you" said Palencar lightly, and he saw the Urgal's anger mounting. He was beginning to detest Urgals despite all the warnings of his mother that this might happen.

"The answer to your outrageous demands is this: _no_. We will _not_ yield anymore land to Urgals and no, we will definitely _not _yield Carvahall which is now under the direct protection of the Crown. You did know that Eragon Shadeslayer is in Alagaesia, did you not?" he asked grimly.

"We did, and we do not fear him. Him binding our race to the Dragons has resulted in the unnatural expansion of the Urgal race as a side effect. We will not perish from the land just because of _human_ presence" roared Yarghra defiantly.

Palencar sighed. There was no help for it, he had somehow contained the situation with words and some force when necessary but the Urgals were truly getting out of control. If all else failed, he would have

"For years now I have been tolerant and understanding. But no more. Yarghra, take this message to Garzhvog" he said, his royalty apparent as he stared down the Kull of an ambassador.

"There will be war if the Kingdom is attacked with force by any Ugralgra" he announced, and enthusiastic murmurs rippled through the hall. Yarghra's eyes widened in his brutish face at this open declaration of Palencar's, who was seen as an extremely moderate King.

"The armies of Illirea are vast and unstoppable" continued Palencar in an ominous voice. "Our allies are strength itself: Elves, the elder race whose magic and strength cannot be withstood, Dwarves the masters of metals whose valour is sung of throughout the ages and the Riders" he said, and this time Yarghra looked slightly concerned.

Nuada, Barristan, Leya and Ildarien stepped forth as one and the hall fell into silence once more. The significance of the situation was not lost on anyone, for if the Riders were to enter the battle the scales would be tipped enormously.

"If you insist on increasing your hostility, we will respond accordingly" warned Nuada quietly. "Your services in overthrowing the Dark King have not been forgotten, nor will they be. But the truth is this: We must resolve this in a peaceful manner or risk the extinction of the Urgal race" he said gravely.

"We knew it" snarled Yarghra, incensed by Nuada's threat of extinction. "We knew that the Riders would side against us. You have always been against our Race! Now we know that you are nothing but self-serving and biased!"

"You are the ones siding against Alagaesia" said Leya sadly. "Land can be found for you, yet you have denied the King's offer of the islands. Your obstinacy has jeopardized much"

"We will _not_ be scared off the mainland by some humans" said Yarghra, and Palencar felt a slight headache at the ambassador's intractability. "We will fight for our land, Shur'tugal! Never again will we trust the other races so freely, ever again" he shouted in his guttural growl and barged out of the throne room disrespectfully.

Palencar immediately stood up and stared around the assembled dignitaries with a hard face. He knew very well what he must do now…there was no other time to unify the myriad lords of the land as the present. Yarghra's outrageous speech was still fresh in their minds and Palencar seemed to capitalize on that fact. As a Nighthawk strode purposefully towards the quickly departing Yarghra, Palencar shouted for him to stop.

"Let him be. We will respect honour even if those godforsaken beasts do not do so!" he shouted and the court's shout shook the hall like Shruikan's did a century ago. Palencar strode down the floor, his cape trailing behind him as he drew Zar'roc with a steely whistle and lifted it high. The wine-red blade glinted beautiful and deadly as Palencar whipped the lords into frenzy with his charisma and passion.

_Careful, Majesty. I hope you will not instil too much enthusiasm in them…our defence must not become an outright slaughter of the races,_ said Nuada's voice in his head. Palencar acknowledged the point silently as he shouted:

"Will we let our homes be taken by those horned brutes?" asked Palencar loudly and the court responded with a resounding no. "Will we, the custodians of mankind itself, let our tolerance of a century be spat upon by those animals?"

The nobles roared their defiance, their eyes reflecting the same anger and pride Palencar showed upon his face. He paced in front of his throne and pointed to it with Zar'roc:

"That seat there is my birth right" he whispered. "But even I am its servant. We all are…its servants" he said solemnly. He closed his eyes and felt the passion and solemnity pervade the room. He then raised his sword to the ceiling and asked them a single question:

"Lords of Illirea, I hereby officially declare war upon the beasts who have spurned our peace and have wrought havoc upon our villages. Do we fight, then, to defend ourselves?" he asked with a fierce smile.

A Hundred long swords were drawn as one, the light glinting off their sharp blades ominously as the assembled Nobles affirmed in one voice their decision. Behind Palencar even the Riders had drawn their blades in a smooth motion, their voices echoing deeply in the minds of all those present.

"WE WILL FIGHT, LORD KING!"

_We will fight._

….


	11. Chapter 11

**Many thanks for reading. A lot of you beloved readers are curious about Eragon's past. Believe you me, I will reveal it as the story progresses. As for the personality of certain characters, please keep in mind that a hundred years of life can change people drastically.**

**Yet some traits remain the same, binding them all.**

**Thanks again,**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 11

Eragon flew over the skies of Tarnag on Saphira, soothed and relaxed by the beautiful weather that prevailed over the dwarf city. Varda sat behind him, and he could feel her mind broadcast its thoughts to her Dragon Belgabad. The white Dragon managed to fly alongside Saphira but only because Saphira was flying at a pace more suitable for the hatchling.

_**Little one, I think bringing Varda to see that elf's corpse was too harsh on her. Belgabad tells me she had nightmares yesterday…I believe Laetri had to put her into an enchanted sleep. She is far too young to shoulder the burden of the Riders.**_

_Yet, Saphira, she was chosen. She and Belgabad are maturing fast, and one look at her mind told me she would be able to handle the absolute nature of death. I refuse to coddle my apprentices, or indeed, any Rider._

_**A wise decision as always. But Eragon, we must remember that Varda is a child and that too just barely**_**,**stated Saphira gently. Eragon could understand that well, even he had been greatly pained when they saw the body of Captain Damitha. Seeing elves dead…something cried out within him at the sight. It was as if nature itself was violated terribly, so much had that fey race melded with the earth.

The fact that the unborn child was also killed was a tragedy beyond measure. He could understand evil, but this was a terrible evil that could extinguish such purity and light callously. He could feel Belgabad's mind reaching towards his, and heard his young voice call out:

_Ebrithil, why was the two-leg-pointed-ears killed by short-two-legs so easily? I have seen the strength of pointed-ears'; it is great, and I do not think she was overwhelmed without a fight._

_**A point we have considered deeply, hatchling. Vanir has resolved to find out more, and I have every faith in his capabilities,**_ said Saphira calmly. Belgabad flew slightly faster to drift next to Saphira's head…Eragon could not supress a fond chuckle as he saw the young Dragon. Belgabad was about as big as Saphira's eyelids, a small speck of shining white against a vast expanse of glittering sapphire.

Varda seemed to have noticed the same thing, as she asked Eragon with a downcast expression. "Ebrithil, will Belgabad ever get as big as Saphira-elda?" she asked in a forlorn voice, and one could see her Dragon's worry reflected in her question. Saphira snorted, and a huge azure flame sprouted out of her nostrils and caused Belgabad to veer out of its path frantically.

Eragon patter her small hand in reassurance. He had trained Dusan and Alanna in their childhood, and they had proved to be powerful and virtuous Riders. He smiled as he saw her worried face…younglings, they were a treasure unlike any other.

"Varda, do you wish to see how Saphira looked when she had just hatched for me?" he asked with twinkling eyes. Saphira's protest hammered against his mind, but his smile only grew wider as he showed an eager Varda the one moment he held close to his heart.

_The sun's light filtered through a window, filling up the small room quite beautifully. A small sound later, a beautiful Sapphire dragon hopped on to the bedpost to greet the light of the dawn. It was perfect and lovely, and so small, so very small._

Eragon observed Varda's absolute amazement with humour, and Belgabad was staring at his massive counterpart with ill-concealed relief. Varda's eyes grew distant, and Eragon knew she was seeing through Belgabad's eyes.

"But Saphira-elda is…is _so_ large! How could she have ever been that tiny?" protested Varda in a disbelieving tone. This time Saphira joined in Eragon's laughter, both of them remembering their youth.

_Young one, all things grow in their time. Belgabad will grow as well, you must not concern yourself about that overmuch_ said Eragon jovially, but returned to solemnity as Saphira circled back towards Tarnag and began the descent. As they lost height gradually, Eragon could not help but feel slightly out of place in the current situation.

_Saphira, I have experienced much and have defeated foes difficult even for Elves. But I do not like being embroiled in intrigue once more…I much prefer my own studies and educating the young ones. Duty is a hard taskmaster indeed._

He felt Saphira's agreement at his thoughts. Saphira was often rash and adventurous as a young Dragon, but now she had changed even as he had. Maybe even along with his sufferings…he noticed that his beautiful blue Dragon took little joy in her old death-defying stunts of flight these days, only performing them as a training exercise or as teaching.

_**I agree. But we are the Lead Riders, and until our Order grows we cannot retire. Our years are becoming longer, aren't they Eragon?**_

_That they are, my beautiful Dragon. That they are. But we are here now…who knows what other happiness we may find here?_ he asked rhetorically as Saphira approached the massive main square of Tarnag, casting most of it into Shadows. He took Varda's hand and drifted down gracefully with her in his arms and Belgabad landed next to his still thoughtful young Rider.

_**Firnen and Sahloknir call for my company, Eragon. This short-two-legs city cannot hold me comfortably**_**,** rumbled Saphira as she flew back into the air in a huge cloud of dust. Eragon watched as Saphira rapidly gained altitude and meet the Green and Gold Dragons as they flew over Tarnag. Pride rushed through him as he saw Saphira dwarfing both Firnen and Sahloknir, but still flying with every bit of the grace she possessed a hundred years ago.

_**I am proud of you as well, Eragon. More so than words can say**_ hummed Saphira as she flew out of sight with her brethren. Eragon basked in the joy for a moment and then began walking towards Undin's halls, with his apprentice and her Dragon following him was a solemnity and mourning in the city that was almost physical, as the few Dwarves there were on the streets wore black and went silently about their work.

As he inclined his head to the dwarves, Varda held his hand tightly as she looked around the city with excited eyes. Belgabad wore a bored look as he flew above them, heeding Eragon's warnings to not drop on anyone. Eragon could feel the hatchling's temptation, though, and resisted asking him to fall on Gannel.

"Ebrithil?" questioned his young apprentice as they strode down the paved street and approached Undin's palace. The dwarven guards bowed low to him, and opened the doors immediately.

"Yes, Varda?"

"Why do the dwarves build things so huge when they are so small? I mean, they are short and a normal door would work for them wouldn't it?" she asked with a thoughtful face. Eragon suppressed a wince as Gannel himself came up to greet them; no doubt he had heard that question. He cleaned his and Varda's footwear with a single spell, not wanting to besmirch the expensive red carpet that adorned the floor.

The dwarves' prosperity was again evident as Eragon only saw large displays of wealth in Undin's halls. Galbatorix's fall had been good for all the races and the dwarves had obviously become wealthy beyond measure.

"An excellent question. Shadeslayer, you have chosen a curious apprentice" boomed Gannel's voice. The priest was unchanged by the years, only developing a few more lines on his face as evidence of his great age. Eragon inclined his head to the Grimstborith, and received a bow in return.

Varda, however, was blushing faintly as Gannel looked at her and chuckled lightly. "Young one, we build such structures for a simple reason…to assure ourselves of our dominance in the larger scheme of things. That we are so slight is a sore point for our race, and we compensate for it with our buildings and works. This trait of ours is consistent throughout history" he admitted openly. Eragon felt a mind trying to contact his, and allowed the contact.

"Really? Ebrithil, can I read _Domia abr Wyrda _now?" she asked Eragon in a slightly pleading tone. Eragon nodded with a faint smile as he heard Gannel's voice in his mind.

_Shadeslayer, I am afraid grave news has reached Laetri Shur'tugal. There is trouble to the east and we have convened a council to discuss this and the matter of Captain Damitha. King Orik and Queen Arya have refused to start without you, so I am here to escort you there._

_I will come, Gannel,_ he responded and decided to return Varda to his quarters. He had refused to let the young Rider out of his sight…she was still far too young to be on her own. _I must first ensure the safety of my apprentice._

_Thank you, Shadeslayer. We will wait._

…

The assembly rose as Eragon entered the meeting hall of Undin's palace, making towards the throne-like chair that was set aside for him in between in between Arya and Orik. He saw the Grimstborithn of various clans seated around the large circular table, and admired Orik's tact in these situations.

"Welcome, Shadeslayer. Thank you for joining us" greeted Undin. Eragon nodded and seated himself, exchanging glances with Arya and Orik. The assembly took a few moments to settle, and then Laetri stood up fluidly commanding the attention of the room.

"I have just communicated with our Riders in Illirea, and we have received momentous news. The Urgals have spurned any and all offers of peace and King Palencar has seen fit to declare war upon them all" she said calmly, even as the entire assembly broke into shouts. Eragon sighed, this had been inevitable…Palencar seemed like a wise King, and he did have Nuada and the others by his side.

Nuada was accomplished, and Eragon had faith in the Rider to control the outcome of the war. If all else failed, he himself would have to take the field against the Urgals…and he did not want to do that. Orik stood up, banging his fist on the table and shouting for order.

Eventually, the clamour ceased and all the clan-chiefs looked up at their King who was looking at them intently. Laetri and Arya were quietly conversing with each other, and Eragon spoke to Saphira as he felt her surprise at the new development.

"Enough!" shouted Orik, and the room was silent. "Laetri Shur'tugal has my thanks for this vital information, we are in her debt" he said firmly, bowing to Laetri who returned it with one of her own. But Orik continued, intending to bring up the matter they were all here for.

"We have convened first to deal with the murder of Captain Damitha" he stated quietly, and looks of regret, satisfaction and even fear came upon the faces of the chiefs.

"If I may, King Orik" asked Arya in her melodious voice. Eragon saw lust in more than one dwarf's eyes…he knew they could not help it. Arya was just too beautiful and entrancing to react otherwise. She wore a rich blue dress, embroidered with gold and silver that fit her form snugly. Eragon recognized Islanzadi's silver belt around her waist as the Queen stood tall to speak upon Orik's assent.

"Captain Damitha, as you may have known, was extremely important to the Alfakyn" she began quietly, showing no emotions upon her face. "Az Sweldn rak Anhuin, if responsible, may have brought down calamity upon your race. The elf that was killed in your city was the mate of Lord Fiolr…whose first mate was killed in the fall of the Riders"

Eragon could sense fear now, as the gravity of the situation settled on them. Arya leaned forward slightly, and said in a cold voice:

"There is only one solution. Once Vanir finishes his investigations, we will know who is responsible. If it is indeed Az Sweldn rak Anhuin, then I would advise you all not to stand in the way of Elven retribution against the offenders" she warned menacingly.

"You dare accuse mine clan of so foul a deed!" shouted Gornuk, and Eragon beheld the new Grimstborith of Az Sweldn rak Anhuin. He bore a great resemblance to Vermund, the traitor, and was no doubt related to him. Arya looked at him with all the authority of a queen, her ice cold gaze boring into the fuming dwarf.

He flinched slightly, but continued his shouting.

"Why would we commit such a deed? Mine King, not all crime in our nation is a result of Az Sweldn rak Anhuin's actions!" he cried, appealing to Orik who stared at him with a stony face. Iorunn spoke, weighing her words as she addressed Arya.

"Your Majesty" she said to Arya, glancing once at Eragon as he stoically observed the proceedings. "As loath as I am to admit it, Gornuk speaks the truth; there can be no conviction without evidence. But what I wish to know is this…if that clan is proved to be guilty, will that affect the elven attitude towards our race despite our compliance with your demands?"

Arya sighed, turning to Iorunn with a sad look.

"It will. We have long memories, longer even than yours. This heinous crime will not be forgotten, and it will colour our perception of you forevermore" she said softly. Eragon could admire her patience now…even after a tragedy as this she could act objectively.

_**She has gained her own wisdom, Eragon. **_

Eragon had to agree, and watched as Gannel looked at Orik, then Gornuk and finally settled his gaze upon Arya. "Let us assume for a moment that Az Sweldn rak Anhuin is convicted" he growled, stopping Gornuk's protests with a raised hand.

"What guarantee do we have that Lord Fiolr's retribution will not spill out to the other clans, the ones not complicit in this dark deed" he questioned Arya in a hard voice. Gornuk could stand this no more, and shouted:

"You would sacrifice your own kind for perceived wrongs, High priest Gannel? Guntera damn you to the void!" shouted Gornuk, his eyes red with anger. Eragon did not look at him, but rather was staring at Arya who looked emotionless but he could feel her anger and vindication. Laetri caught his gaze and nodded to him. He raised his hand and called upon magic to bring order to the pandemonium.

"_Quiet"_ he said in the ancient Language, and the dwarves stared at him with wide eyes as he brought silence upon them forcibly. He met Gornuk's eyes, and the Clan chief sat down mutely unable to bear what he saw in the eyes of the Lead Rider. When silence had descended completely upon the room, Eragon stood up to face them.

"Grimstborith Gannel. I will protect the innocent from unwarranted harm, if necessary…it has ever been my duty and I will not shirk it for any race" he stated quietly, and he could see Gannel's relief at his assurance.

"But" he said, "I will not spare your clan if it was culpable in this horrible murder" he said to Gornuk in a deadly whisper. The clan-chief's eyes went wide with fear at this threat, and the clan-chiefs themselves held their breath. Orik spoke in his deep voice, also looking menacingly at Gornuk.

"Nor will I, Grimstborith. Mine brother has mine thanks for his promise of protection…but you, you will pay for your duplicity. I was lenient with what Vermund had wrought as your clan-chief and I did not declare war. But this dishonour is black, and it will not be allowed to pass" he said in a forceful voice. The Dwarven chiefs watched with wide eyes as Gornuk literally jumped on to the table, kicking aside various refreshments in his blind rage.

"You already have condemned my clan, have you not? HAVE YOU NOT?" he screamed drawing his axe and pointing it at Orik who watched him as one might watch an irritating bug. Guards came rushing into the room and wrested Gornuk away from the room even as he mouthed foul obscenities to his King. Orik banged Volund slightly upon the table, drawing attention.

"Until and unless Ambassador Vanir brings admissible evidence this matter will not be resolved. But the Ambassador has assured me that he will be able to do this before the Vanyali take any action. Do I have your agreement that you will stand with us as we deal with Az Sweldn rak Anhuin?" he asked of the clan-chiefs who responded with a resounding 'aye'.

Eragon snorted sardonically, of course they would join in. The clan-chiefs were still as self-serving as ever and they would certainly grab any chance possible to eliminate another rival. It also helped that Az Sweldn rak Anhuin was hated by all dwarves for breaking the sacred right of guests all those years ago.

"We convene tomorrow to discuss this and the Urgal matter. King Palencar is our ally, and we must be ready to support him and heal our tarnished honour!" said Orik loudly. "This council is adjourned!"

…

_Saphira, I do not prefer to fight…but I may be forced to. Even I cannot stomach murder of this heinousness. Laetri has assured us that Az Sweldn rak Anhuin is somehow involved…she swore to me that she could feel edges of guilt and fear leak through Gornuk's mind. Even I could smell the guilt he exuded. _

_**Eragon, it is our duty no matter we like it or not. We chose duty, and duty we will follow despite all things.**_

"Duty it is, then" he said softly, and Arya looked up at him from her seat. Laetri had closed her eyes to the world, and her uniform breathing told Eragon that she was deep in her trance state. Orik was snoring after imbibing copious amounts of Faelnirv and had fallen asleep right on the deserted council table.

_**When Orik became such a drunkard, I will never know. But to rule over a race such as dwarves even I would need a good helping of strong mead**_snorted Saphira. Eragon watched the dwarf king for a moment as he busily snored on the round table, murmuring unintelligible words as usual. _We men all need our vices, Saphira. It appears Orik has found his._

_**Just like you found yours, is it not Eragon. Do you remember that time when you did not come out of that blasted tower of yours for two years? **_

_I remember_, said Eragon with amusement. _I could not help it, Saphira. I was too busy unravelling the workings of the transportation spell. It was too interesting at the time, as you well know._

_**Oh, I know, Eragon **_said Saphira, sending him images of Firnen and Sahloknir performing stunning acrobatics. Eragon could see Firnen's improvement…but truly it was not up to Sahloknir, let alone the supreme grace of Saphira. He and Saphira could instantly see the many flaws in Firnen's technique most likely born out of inadequacy of practice opponents.

But that was no longer a problem, for Eragon was sure that Saphira would help Firnen to achieve his potential. He felt Saphira's warmth at his faith, and they jointly observed both their surroundings for a few moments through the other's eyes.

They were waiting for the arrival of Vanir right there in the council room. Vanir's evidence was simply something that was needed to convince the dwarves, for Laetri had managed to gather traces of duplicity from the Knurlan of Az Sweldn rak Anhuin.

As the last rays of twilight fell through the high and gilded windows, he rose and walked to watch the dusk. The large council room was basked in the dull red glow of the sun as they awaited the return of Vanir.

"You seem deep in thought, Eragon" came Arya's soft voice as she came to stand beside him to watch the gradual sunset. Eragon smiled as he shook himself out of melancholy, something that tended to take him if he were alone for extended periods of time.

"Seeing Damitha's body took a toll on me as well, Arya. I have been sequestered long at Aiedail trying to overcome my own sufferings…I was somewhat unprepared to see the sufferings of others. I have been a teacher and explorer of Gramarye for too long now. It will take some time for me to once more become the one who killed the Dark Tyrant"

Arya remained silent as she considered his forthright words. Laetri too had woken and Eragon could feel her bright blue eyes upon him…it had always brought him a feeling of comfort and security though he had not said so to anyone. With the smallest noise, Laetri was at his other side and held his hand lightly.

Eragon squeezed back, feeling the softness and flawlessness of her palm absently. He and Laetri had accomplished much together after Galbatorix's fall and had gone through even more. She was the only other soul who understood him, except for Saphira. She, Saphira, Sahloknir and he were bound in ways that were not yet understood.

"I understand" said Arya, glancing briefly at their joined hands and turning away. "It is hard for me as well to return to how I was during the war. If the situation calls for it, however, I will fight again" she said in a low and firm voice.

"I wonder why Palencar saw the need to declare war so suddenly?" wondered Eragon, and he did have a few suspicions. Arya confirmed them by replying with a voice that held the faintest note of admiration.

"Palencar is shrewd. You remember Trianna?" she asked him, her eyes narrowing at the name. Eragon smirked at Saphira's indignation, his Dragon was always a mite jealous of Trianna. Ever since Trianna had futilely tried to seduce him at Farthen Dur, Saphira had hated her.

"I remember her" he laughed. Arya's and Laetri's eyes showed confusion at his laughter, and he hastily explained:

"She was a great help in the war, but I remember that she tried to seduce me after the Battle of Farthen Dur" he said, watching Arya's face become cold for a second and Laetri's grip tighten briefly upon his hand. Only then did humour fill their eyes as they laughed briefly at how inexperienced he would have been at such a quandary. He was rather puzzled by their responses until he felt Saphira's and Sahloknir's amusement.

_Ebrithil, you are still sometimes oblivious to what women feel aren't you? _Asked Sahloknir smugly, and Eragon had to agree there. He had little time to understand the female mind for training and studies took up all his attention. Saphira's voice spoke in their minds, dripping with scorn.

_**I always knew she was a rotten one, Trianna. Ever since she tried to seduce my Rider I knew she was power-hungry. It was good I chased her away from my Eragon. What did she do now?**_

Arya concealed her laugh with a cough, not wanting to show her amusement with Saphira's childish possessiveness of Eragon. She continued, slowly stroking the hilt of _Tamerlein._

"Trianna established a guild of magic at Kuasta under Nasuada's direction, and has become a force to reckon with after her disappearance. Nasuada trusted her, and she was right to do so…but there are few humans who are not tempted by power. She is subtly but boldly involving herself in various power plays." she said in a sad voice, and Eragon nodded. His mind could see through Palencar's plan clearly now, and he could only applaud the King for it.

It seemed Nasuada's son was as shrewd as his mother.

"I can understand now" said Eragon softly absently watching twilight fade into night. "He wishes to reunify the Kingdom under a cause, and he is using the Urgal situation to his benefit. It is clever, but somewhat cold and ruthless"

"That it is", said Laetri. "If any rebel factions openly declare their intentions, then Palencar will be free to crush them without incurring the ire of the people. I would even go as far as to say that his subjects would wholeheartedly approve of his actions, for they still hate Urgals. Anyone who stands against the Urgal war will be viewed with vehement hostility"

_A clever two-legs, this is a novelty all by itself_, snorted Sahloknir. The three of them stood in peaceful silence as the sun set completely and plunged the vast hall into relative darkness. Eragon turned abruptly as he felt his wards around the room being disturbed and moments later Vanir's voice proclaimed:

"_Naina"_

The room was lit by a soft white glow uniformly, perfectly simulating daylight. Without pause, Vanir went to the prone Orik who was dozing contently upon the round table. Vanir's eyes showed his exasperation as he woke the king up with a spell.

"What news, Vanir?" questioned Eragon calmly, as Orik woke up with a groan. Vanir's eyes filled with frustration and his hands shook slightly for a moment as he turned to Arya:

"Your Majesties, Eragon-elda…I have failed" he said with shame. Arya's eyes narrowed at this, being the only sign of her mounting anger. Then she turned away from Vanir, muttering what Eragon knew to be dwarven profanities. Vanir hung his head, looking shamefacedly at the floor.

"What happened?" questioned Eragon briskly as he wove wards of considerable strength to conceal their conversation. Vanir paused for a second and then said:

"I questioned those who saw Damitha-kona's body first, and even sifted through their minds. I can honestly say I sifted through the minds of nearly every dwarf in Tarnag, some even by force…I could find literally no thoughts about this matter. In some members of Az Sweldn rak Anhuin I felt the same guilt Laetri-elda described but not a single fact linking them to this murder" he said with anger. He then turned to Eragon and said with conviction:

"I know it was them, Eragon-elda. The blood that runs through us sings with magic, and it gives us faint premonitions. I _know_ it was them"

"We are thwarted" said Arya in an emotionless voice. Laetri held up her hand, however, and looked intently at Vanir.

"Vanir-vodhr, did you just say that there were absolutely _no_ thoughts about the crime in any dwarf you screened?" she asked. Vanir nodded, his face betraying his despair:

"None at all, Laetri-elda. It was-" he said, and then paused abruptly with his eyes widening in realization, as did all their eyes. They glanced at each other and understood with no need of words, but Orik seemed lost at their deliberations.

"What has happened, brother?" he asked gruffly, looking curiously at Eragon. Eragon closed his eyes, thinking deep and fast about the matter. Saphira's and his minds worked in tandem as he put together the random facts Vanir brought him, and his face showed his alarm as he came to a single terrible conclusion.

_**We are coming, Eragon!**_roared Saphira in his mind. He could feel Sahloknir's and Firnen's defiant voices echoing through Tarnag, and turned urgently to Arya, Laetri and Orik. Evidently they had not concluded the same as him, and were puzzled by his alarm.

"What is amiss, Eragon?" asked Laetri quickly as she rushed to his side. Eragon turned to her and replied softly, only his steadily glowing Indigo eyes giving hint of his disquiet at his conclusions.

"She is here" he whispered, and their faces showed their confusion. Eragon went to the table and sat down slowly, summoning the goblet of mead and drinking deeply. Night had fallen completely, and the city was slowly igniting its Erisdar lanterns.

"Who?" questioned Orik intently.

"Ismira, she is here. It is the only possible answer!" said Eragon, watching amazement and alarm cross the faces of the Riders and shock flit through Orik. He could feel Saphira and Sahloknir land just outside the city of Tarnag, and a new thought struck him. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner and opened his mind to the three Dragons:

_Saphira, Sahloknir and Firnen; You must search for Belegroch immediately. Leave Saphira to handle him…we have no idea what he is capable of. Firnen, you and Sahloknir will follow Saphira's lead in this!_, he said in a firm voice brooking no argument. He felt their rumbling acquiescence at his direction, accepting their roles with little hesitation.

_**I will deal with Belegroch, Little one. Be careful if you encounter Ismira. You know how our heart can be used against us, it has happened before. Be careful.**_

Eragon sent his assent, and met the hard eyes of Laetri and Arya. He would have time to explain because he knew Ismira would need to concentrate to maintain the sophisticated spell she was casting. He had to convince them of his insight immediately.

"What has happened, Eragon? Do not keep us waiting!" Arya almost snarled. Eragon clasped his palms and began:

"We all have deduced that the dwarves' thoughts are being concealed with magic. No one can _not think at all_ of such a prominent matter, so recently happened in their own city. Laetri asked the right questions" he said, inclining his head to her.

"Magic" said Orik in a dazed voice. Eragon nodded. Ismira would have succeeded with this if he were not here with Laetri. He faced to Arya and continued:

"But there are only a few people who can wield magic like this: namely Elves and Riders. Not many elves can do _this_ much, except for the great elven Lords or the best warriors…or their Queen" he said, inclining his head to Arya. He only received a tense stare in return.

"All of these elves we know to be good and true, so it cannot be them. All known Riders I have taught myself, so it is not them. It cannot be the elven Shade for I can sense their unholy magics even if they try to hide it. I can sense it from miles away, even. This only leaves one possible conclusion" he stated grimly, and Arya and Laetri nodded sadly. Vanir was standing numbly, and Orik was yet to overcome his shock.

"Ismira" he said, looking around at them solemnly. "Ismira is here, working in the shadows to fulfil some purpose. I have directed Saphira and the others to search for Belegroch" he said as Orik recovered completely. Vanir quickly left the room, his hand upon his blade and Eragon did not stop him. He was an experienced elf, after all.

"I will direct an immediate search for her" said Orik suddenly and strode urgently towards the guards they knew to be standing outside. Eragon stopped him, looking around gravely at them all.

"We do not know her what she is capable of, either. But she does not know me as well, nor does she know Laetri or Arya. Fortunately, the solution is quite simple" said Eragon quietly.

"I will nullify her spell. That should draw her out, and we can then confront her on our own terms. King Orik, this opponent is beyond all except perhaps elves or Riders. I would advise you to evacuate the streets completely, brother" he said as he strode towards his quarters.

_Varda, how do you find the book?_

_I really like it, Ebrithil. Heslant the Monk is a great storyteller! _

_That he is. Now brace yourself, my apprentice _said Eragon as he disappeared in a flash of Indigo light. An instant later he appeared again with another flash, depositing Varda on the ground. Belgabad hovered over them quizzically and Varda stared at her master with curiosity and indignation.

"No questions for now, Varda" said Eragon sternly. "Me, Arya Drottning and Laetri-elda will be doing something vital. Stay by me at all times, do you understand?" he asked, looking into her eyes. After a moment she nodded and took his right hand silently. Enveloping her small hand with his, he turned to Orik and said solemnly.

"I must act , can you make sure that the town square is completely cleared?" he asked calmly.

"That I can do. Stay safe, Eragon" he said, and moved to call his men and issue the orders. He squeezed Varda's hand as he felt her pure fear at the mention of a Shade. Arya and Laetri had finished their preparations and looked at him with silent readiness.

"Ebrithil, you cannot fight…a…a Shade. Heslant the monk says they are horrible. _They are just too horrible!_" cried Varda as she hugged Eragon tightly in her fright. Eragon glanced once at his distraught young apprentice, and then at Laetri's compassionate expression. Arya looked at Varda with something akin to pity and reassurance as the young Rider hugged Eragon even more tightly.

"I am not fighting a Shade, Varda" said Eragon gently. "Not for now, at least. You will be safe in my presence. No Shade can harm you as long as I am with you" he reassured her with both words and mind. Laetri's and Arya's footsteps echoed through the silent and vast hall as they made to stand next to him.

Varda disengaged herself slowly, still looking at him with fear and concern. Eragon felt a rush of pure pride as he saw that Varda was not afraid for herself, but for him. She was definitely his apprentice after through and through.

"Do not worry, young one" whispered Arya in Varda's ear. "Eragon-elda and I have both killed Shades before, we are both Shadeslayers. We can defend ourselves if necessary"

Indigo light enveloped them for an instant, and they reappeared in the middle of an absolutely empty town square. Dwarven buildings surrounded the vast square, and Celbedeil stood tall in front of them. The moonlight glinted off the proud structures, giving a sense of peace and anticipation somehow at the same time.

Orik had done his part well and fast, and Eragon could sense no one on the streets. It was up to him now, and he turned to the Riders and said quietly:

"Be ready, everyone. Saphira has found a trail and believes that she and the others will find Belegroch soon. It appears that my deduction was right. I will act the moment they have engaged Belegroch" he said calmly. Varda looked at him with eyes of anticipation and fearfulness as Laetri nodded grimly.

"An excellent plan, Eragon-elda" Arya said approvingly. "With her Dragon under attack, and her spells nullified simultaneously she will have no option but to respond"

"Ebrithil" whispered Varda, a single tear sliding down her innocent face. Eragon brushed it away tenderly, regretting the need for a six year old to witness a true fight between Riders. But he would not trust the safety of his beloved apprentice to some walls, not after Roran's words. Varda would be safest with him.

"Ebrithil, please be safe" said Varda once more. He felt Saphira's anticipation as she and the others hunted for Belegroch…they would find him soon, very soon. He exchanged glances with Laetri and Arya who looked visibly tense.

The silence of the night was torn asunder by the terrifying roars of four mature Dragons, causing the buildings to shake violently at the mighty sound. Arya loosened her blade in its sheath, the steely sound masked by the challenging roars of the four Dragons. The city shook with the vibration as Dragons fought once more on the land of Alagaesia after more than a hundred years.

_**Eragon, we have found him! He is fast, and flying towards Tarnag…I am afraid he is as fast as me and has a considerable head start!**_came Saphira's angry shout. Arya's face remained impassive as Firnen presumably told her something similar. The three Riders shared the image sent to them by Saphira, of a dragon as black as coal and with glinting eyes of bright gold….Belegroch was larger than Firnen and Sahloknir, but smaller than Saphira.

"Belegroch is coming here rapidly, but Saphira will not be able to catch up with him before he attacks the city" he said as he gathered magic. Varda's fear was now palpable as she stared at her master with slightly shaking hands. Eragon's mind blanketed her own, giving her strength and reassurance as he stood tall with his long silver hair rippling in the wind.

His eyes shone like living embers, and his pure white robes glowed as if responding to the magic that resided within him. He turned to Varda as the magic in him responded to his call, giving him an appearance of implacableness and strength.

"Do not fear for me, young Rider" he said, and his voice seemed to be layered with aspects that both terrified and enchanted them. "I know how to deal with Dark Magic" he said in a gentle voice that seemed to echo and seep into the very earth. "I am the Lightbringer, after all".

He closed his eyes. Calmly, he spoke the Name of names in his mind and guided it to do his bidding.

The air rippled around Eragon in a rush, and the fabric of the world heaved and shuddered progressively through the entirety of Tarnag. He could feel every foreign influence forcibly wiped out of the mind of every dwarf in Tarnag as he cleansed the city of Ismira's taint. The drain on his energy was noticeable, and he only slumped slightly before standing tall again.

He opened his eyes, and looked at the Riders calmly. Varda was staring at him with absolute amazement, and even Arya seemed quite impressed. Laetri was focused within herself, and Eragon knew she kept watch for their opponent.

"She is coming. I can feel her rage even here. We will have to see who arrives first, Belegroch or his Rider" he said calmly, casting extremely strong wards around Varda. With a simple mental exercise, he cleared himself of all thought and focused upon Ismira's rapid approach. She was so angered that she was not even trying to hide herself, and Eragon could clearly hear her challenge him openly.

_Come then, Ismira and Belegroch, _he responded calmly, casting the thought all around Tarnag and striding towards where he felt her arrival. _Come and fight me._

…..

"Palencar, his closest advisors and I have devised a rough battle plan to begin with, and we have assembled here to discuss this plan" said Nuada as the other Riders sat down in chairs around him in a semicircle.

"The King moves fast" noted Leya dryly, and Ildarien nodded. But Barristan burst out, unable to contain his curiosity:

"Nuada, why did we support the King so readily? I have no doubt that as Riders we could have stalled this war and forced peace down both nations' throats" he asked tersely, as they sat in Nuada's quarters behind several spells of warding.

The entire city was abuzz with Palencar's initiation of hostilities and it was spreading like wildfire through the entirety of the Kingdom. Despite himself, Barristan felt a small amount of fear and great exhilaration at the notion of a war.

"Barristan, things are not always so simple" said Nuada, looking gravely at him. "We Riders have returned to this land after a hundred years, and we are not strong as we were before the fall. If we were to abruptly start enforcing rules, the races would not take to us kindly. Thus we have to play the game of politics to establish ourselves firmly. We do not do this for power, but for peace."

"Which means" said Leya, also looking seriously at Barristan. "that we will have to take sides…more precisely, we will join the winning side. It is to our benefit that King Palencar is righteous, and has worked beyond hard for a hundred years of peace. So if we take sides, we choose him properly…that is what we did by giving him our support during his declaration"

"I do not like this either" admitted Nuada softly, as he traced his fingers over his scabbard. "To maintain peace, we must have the strength to enforce it. I chose the next best alternative, to help the rightful King in maintaining the peace of his Kingdom. I only followed the edicts of the Riders' code in this matter, Barristan"

There was silence for a while as they considered the implications of what had happened yesterday. Ildarien frowned as he said:

"But Palencar only does what is best for his Kingdom, Nuada. We are sworn to protect every innocent in Alagaesia…I see Barristan's point here" he said and Nuada sighed. Ildarien continued however: "I see yours as well. Perhaps we can kill several birds with a single stone this way"

"That we can, though I do not like killing birds" said Leya solemnly. "The situation is very different from the war against Galbatorix, I am afraid. The races are not united now and we must stitch them together in a delicate manner. Urgals respect might, so might we will have to show them. They will not submit to words…also their Riders must have given them undue boldness"

"Exactly. Leya said it quite concisely, Barristan. Urgals will submit only upon defeat, it is an unfortunate facet of their culture. But for now we have some decisions to make" he said as he unfurled a large map of Alagaesia and lit the room with a whispered word.

"Palencar has directed some Nighthawks and elite divisions of his army to pinpoint Urgal villages before the strike. They will enter through various passes around the spine and venture deep into the mountains" he said, pointing to the area around Utgard. The four Riders leaned towards the map as Nuada spoke, and they felt the attention of their Dragons as well.

"The brunt of the Urgal assault has been taken by Therinsford and Carvahall. Lord Holcomb, great grandson of Roran Stronghammer and the Earl of Carvahall, has beaten back the Urgals admirably. But the fringes of his domain has been sacked repeatedly, and the usual Urgal atrocities have been committed" he said in a hard voice.

"I and Domiel will go there to reinforce the troops" he said calmly. "We must cover all sides of the spine, and also be ready at all times to respond to the Urgal Riders. Who will accompany the troops sent to the mouth of the Woadark River?"

_We will, Nuada. If only because I like water and rivers more than most Dragons,_ said Ragnar and Leya smiled at her Dragon's words. Nuada nodded and turned to Barristan:

"You, of course, will be at the King's side as he makes camp near the city of Daret with the reserve forces. You are skilled with both swords and magic and we cannot have Palencar threatened in any manner. Also a human Rider at the King's side is more favourable for us"

Barristan nodded, and Nuada turned to Ildarien who was waiting calmly.

"Ildarien, you and Isidar will lead a special force of magic-users…these warriors, Palencar has assured me, are deadly assassins and infiltrators. They are elite Nighthawks in fact…you my friend will not lead frontline fighters, but a clandestine unit that will strike at specific targets" said Nuada solemnly. He stared at the dark-haired elf with a grave look, but Ildarien was calm.

"Your force will be ready at all times to attack with magic and to reinforce overwhelmed minds of the magicians planted throughout our troops. You will be under my command" he finished.

"I accept" said Ildarien. "And where are we to be quartered during the mobilization?"

Nuada kept staring at the map, as he said softly: "You will need a location that is within striking distance of where we suspect most of the Urgal troops to be. Ildarien, you and your magicians will mobilize within the week and head immediately to occupy the tower of Ristvak'baen"

Ildarien nodded with a surprised look, but accepted nevertheless. Nuada rose, and they rose with him. "This plan will be refined and modified tomorrow, but these will be the core ideas. Tomorrow the generals of the army will assemble in the war room in the palace at the break of dawn to formally discuss the war effort. Our presence is requested as well."

"So be it" said Ildarien as he went for the door. Before he exited he looked back at Nuada and said quietly: "It is Ristvak'baen no longer, Nuada. The moment Ebrithil killed Galbatorix the Riders rose once more, unconquerable. He is a living symbol of our strength and power"

"I will leave for Edoc'sil, not Ristvak'baen. We are Riders and Dragons, and we may never be vanquished completely from the land" he said, and Nuada acknowledged him with a faint smile as he left. It had been two centuries since he had set eyes upon Edoc'sil, the last he saw of that tragic tower was when Evandar met Vrael just before the fall.

_Perhaps...perhaps Ildarien has a point. But we are still an infant order, susceptible to sabotage and attack. Only Eragon-elda can safely claim to be unconquerable...but as for the rest of the order, we must grow for centuries before Ristvak'baen can be called Edoc'sil once more._


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

_Come then, Ismira and Belegroch. Come and fight me._

Eragon cast that thought throughout Tarnag as he strode towards a dark alley that lay next to the dwarven sanctum of Celbedeil. He could clearly hear the light but fast run of an opponent of the Caliber of a Rider, and closed his eyes to extend his mind all throughout the city to feel the entirety of its existence just like Oromis had taught him.

He could hear and see everything around him, to a degree impossible for the eyes to perceive. This ability was one of the many reasons Riders were feared in battle, for it enabled them to be so aware that deception was nearly impossible. The image of a massive black Dragon drifted to the front of his mind sent by his partner of his heart, Saphira. Shifting his perception to view the world through her eyes for an instant, he saw with anticipation that Belegroch was upon them and he felt Saphira's anger as they saw Belegroch arch his neck.

He opened his eyes to stare at the sky, seeing nothing except the vast expanse of the endless heavens. But he could feel Belegroch's mind shielded by powerful barriers, a consciousness that was concealed from him. He felt Laetri's thoughts brush against his own, warning him urgently.

_Eragon, Belegroch is hidden in the night clouds above!_ _He is about to fill the square with his fire, and we do not want to see Tarnag turned into a burned heap. _

Eragon said nothing but turned his Indigo eyes to where he felt Belegroch's presence in the sky. _I will stop him for now, Laetri and Arya. He has arrived first, it seems._

_So be it, Eragon-elda_ returned Arya and he felt her alertness increase. He felt Ismira observing them from somewhere around them, some building that ringed the vast city square of Tarnag. It seemed she would wait for him to repel Belegroch's fire before she attacked.

The air felt slightly warmer, and the ground shook slightly…the only warnings Eragon had as he heard the fire building in Belegroch high in the sky. Laetri was right, their wards would protect them but Tarnag would burn if he let Belegroch make the first move.

With a faint rushing sound he gathered his mental strength as he pinpointed Belegroch's consciousness precisely, and he felt the mindforce take form like the latent strength of an ocean. He stared into the starry heavens where the black Dragon camouflaged himself, and struck out with his mind with great power.

Belegroch's alarm and surprise ran through him in a short torrent as the black Dragon struggled to throw off his attack. The Dragon's mental strength was great, but his will was much greater.

Inexorably, he shattered every single barrier that protected the Dragon and crushed them to nothingness. He could hear Belegroch's pained roars as he drove through the Dragon's last defences like a fire through a forest, and entered the Dragon's consciousness for a short moment. He raised his hand to the heavens even as he kept up his incapacitating mental assault on Belegroch and simultaneously wove wards over his companions to protect them from what would come.

"_Garjzla"_

Blinding light lit up the sky above Tarnag for a moment, so bright that it seemed as if the very sun had arrived upon the earth. The light consumed everything for a few seconds in its absolute brightness even as Eragon heard the sound of a huge mass descending down to the earth. The powerful light faded completely, leaving afterimages to the literally stunned observers.

With a regretful sigh, he broke Belegroch's mind barriers completely as the Dragon fell to the earth after his attack, its wings rendered immobile after Eragon took control through its mind.

The air rippled as the black Dragon fell with rapidly increasing momentum as Eragon relentlessly crushed the counter of his niece's bonded Dragon. He held its mind in his grasp, but he did not cause it any harm...only sending feelings of compassion and regret at at the situation.

Boundless regret overcame him as he felt the mind of Belegroch, the Dragon unable to fight back at the unbelievably vast mindforce that had it in its grasp. To call Eragon's mind vast would be akin to calling a mountain a pebble, so absolute was its fury.

He had no intention of violating the magnificent Dragon's consciousness, almost weeping as he felt the veins of suffering and anger run deeply through its mind. Suffering that reminded him of his own experiences.

He felt the Dragon's puzzlement at compassion, and tears formed in his eyes as he realized how _similar_ they were. He hardened his heart as he spoke to Ismira through the bond, his voice raging through the minds of both Riders.

_Belegroch will die if you do not come out, Ismira. I have his mind in my grasp and I have commanded his body not to fly. You will have to come out and slow his descent so he does not meet his death._

Laetri looked at him incredulously as Belegroch fell helplessly to the ground, within moments the Dragon would die in an extremely painful manner. She spoke shortly to Arya, but the quietness of the square and sharpness of his senses enabled him to guess the contents of their conversation.

Moments later, even Arya stared at him with disbelieving eyes. He could feel Saphira and the others entering Tarnag fast, and knew he would have to continue his cruelty only for a little longer. Still he felt nothing from Ismira…His heart clenched as Belegroch accepted death as the Dragon sped down, presumably reassuring his Rider. A lone tear made down his face as enormous guilt and regret tortured him again…he had failed his niece horribly.

Finally a flash of red sped through his sight in in the light of the Erisdar lanterns and he saw a tall, feminine form in a hooded cloak raise her hands towards the falling dragon. Eragon watched as Ismira raised both hands, and shouted in a clear voice that almost made him lose composure…it was like hearing a young Katrina scold him again.

"_Letta, iet Belegroch!"_

Appreciation made itself known to him through his crushing guilt as Ismira expertly halted the death fall of her Dragon, lowering him gently to the ground. Eragon gladly released his hold on the Dragon's mind even as he cursed mentally, hating the need to do such a thing. He still mourned for Shruikan's death and there were no words to say how much he abhorred attacking his own niece in this underhanded manner.

Ismira murmured a spell, almost like a song and Eragon saw Belegroch stand up tall at his Rider's ministrations. Laetri and Arya came up with Varda to flank him and they observed the huge black Dragon, admiring its majesty and power. But Eragon's attention was on his niece, who had finished her spell to heal her Dragon.

Belegroch stood half again as tall as Firnen and Sahloknir, taking up much of the square's space as he stared with unnervingly brilliant golden eyes at Eragon. Eragon saw with another stab of sadness that the Dragon was unused to anyone other than his Rider, and did not interfere as Ismira communicated with Belegroch for a few brief moments; Finally she turned to face Eragon fully, and his eyes widened considerably.

She wore a beautiful red cloak, woven with all the skill of an elven weaver. Her hair was copper-coloured just like her mother's and her face reminded Eragon painfully of Katrina's beautiful mien. It was almost like seeing Roran's wife come out of the grave, and the utter hatred and rage on the face twisted his heart with sadness.

_**It is good Roran remained in Farthen Dur. Seeing his daughter after so many years would have most likely killed him with grief**_**, **said Saphira as she, Sahloknir and Firnen landed smoothly upon the town square. Saphira dwarfed all of them, a Sapphire behemoth that loomed like a great Shadow and taking up much of the square. She was an elder Dragon, after all.

Eragon looked around as they were surrounded by their Dragons, Ismira facing them all with a look of cold hatred upon her face and with a gauntleted hand upon the black hilt of her sword. Belegroch growled at Saphira, baring his deadly fangs at her but Saphira only blinked back at the Dragon causing him to roar loud.

Varda cried out in fear and ran forward to grip Eragon's hand tightly. Eragon looked down to see how alarmed his young Rider was…her body did not betray her but her eyes showed her frantic emotions as she stared at the menacing form of Belegroch. Her hand shook very slightly as she looked fully into Ismira's eyes, and Eragon enveloped her mind with his. He felt Glaedr and Umaroth himself reach out to the young girl and to the white hatchling in her arms, lending them courage and peace.

_Hatchlings, you are the apprentices of the greatest Rider our order has seen for many centuries now. You must not exhibit fear so openly, little ones. It hurts your master when he sees you hurt, _said the Eldunari in their wise and resonating voices. Eragon smiled as Varda's face faltered for a single second, but the fear was banished from her eyes and Belgabad's an instant later.

Arya stepped forward from his left side and addressed Ismira despite the growls of the three colossal Dragons, only Saphira held her peace as she contented herself with observing Belegroch. Eragon could see no softness in her emerald eyes for Ismira, only a raging anger for the crimes his niece must have perpetrated.

"Did you kill Captain Damitha?" she asked in an ice-cold voice. Ismira's face became expressionless, possibly because they were conversing entirely in the ancient language. A moment later she smiled at Arya, a smile that seemed all the more threatening because of her emotionless eyes.

"I did. No dwarf is strong enough to kill such an elf…it had to be me, I am afraid. She was a worthy opponent, a powerful opponent. I only regret that I had to kill her unborn child with her…there is no honour in such a thing" she said, a flicker of unknown emotion passing through her face. Arya's eyes grew bright with anger, and Eragon knew just how volatile she could be.

Firnen roared in response to his Rider's all-consuming rage, arching his neck to bathe Ismira in a controlled column of terrible emerald flames. But Ismira's raised hand and whispered words split the fire into two before it reached her, causing it to pass harmlessly on either side to set afire two dwarven dwellings.

"How could you do such a thing?" whispered Laetri in revulsion, her beautiful pale face horrified as she stared at Ismira. Eragon only watched his niece with a composed face as she admitted…no, even boasted of her black deeds. For this alone the elves would hold her in eternal contempt and scorn.

"It was my duty" said Ismira solemnly. Eragon leaned forward slightly, observing her with shining Indigo eyes.

"How is it your duty?" he asked calmly.

"It is my duty to survive, Eragon. Surely you understand that fact, you who have slaughtered countless beings on the field of battle. That meddlesome elf would not be dead if she had not seen through my arrangement with Az Sweldn rak Anhuin, you know", she said intently.

"That does not make you any better than Galbatorix himself" whispered Arya, causing Belegroch to snarl at her. Ismira laughed for the first time, looking at Arya with amusement.

"We have differing goals, Arya. I am committed to mine just as you are committed to yours. You gave even love up for your duty" she said scornfully. "Whereas I gave up small issues such as morality and constraints. No life is as important to me as Belegroch's or my own, and if anyone threatens it, even indirectly…I will destroy them" she promised with glinting eyes.

"Those words have been uttered before" said Eragon as he let go of Varda's hand. Laetri laid her hand on the young Rider's shoulders, and Belgabad flew up and dropped heavily on Sahloknir's neck, causing the golden Dragon to wince slightly.

"Murtagh" nodded Ismira as she too moved in a circle, facing Eragon with purposeful eyes. Laetri and Arya stared at niece and Uncle solemnly as they retreated with Varda towards their Dragons to create space in the centre of the square. Eragon and Ismira both had their hands on their sword hilts as they moved, a tension in the air so thick it could be cut. The city of Tarnag was sinisterly quiet as the Riders faced each other at long last.

"Yes, Murtagh" said Eragon. "But all that those ideals brought to him was sadness and grief. You would do well to let them go" he said calmly, now viewing Ismira as only a potential opponent. Ismira frowned.

"You must not advise me so, Uncle" she said, and Eragon saw Varda's gasp at their relation as Laetri picked her up in her arms. Ismira too glanced at her once more, the unreadable look flickering across her face once more.

"You lost that right a long time ago, when you left me and Belegroch to be trained by Elves" she said coldly. "For all your wisdom and strength, for all your greatness and accomplishments…you could not keep safe the niece who adored you to the ends of the earth, even with you being absent!"

"Ismira…"

"You are no Lightbringer. You brought only darkness, pain and suffering into my life. And now you have attacked and nearly slain Belegroch, the friend of my soul and the one solace of my heart" Ismira said in a voice filled with cold rage.

"For that I will _never _forgive you" she promised him. Eragon nodded, he had expected her resentment. The parallels between her and Murtagh's situations were glaringly apparent. His heart went out to the girl he had blessed when she was a baby, the girl who he had promised to Roran would be a great figure. His own worthlessness disgusted him…no matter what he suffered, _he_ should have been the one to collect Ismira.

_**Stop it, Eragon. You are the successor of Vrael, you are the master of the Riders... If you falter, then our order will wither! **_Came Saphira's resounding exclamation in his mind. Eragon shook his head, dispelling his melancholia. Saphira was right.

His and Ismira's hair flew as a cold wind rushed through them, emphasizing the hidden menace in the quiet of the dwarven city. There was no helping it, he had to defeat and try to unbind Ismira here and now.

Once more, he spoke the name of Names in his head and guided it to break Ismira's oaths if she had made any. The air rippled as he did so, but Ismira only drew her sword with no visible change in her demeanour. Eragon frowned…that should have freed her.

Ismira held her black blade to her side, it was darker than even Belegroch's scales. It was almost one with the night, so well-crafted that it was obviously a Rider's once upon a time. Only the two Riders moved, everyone observing with bated breath.

"This is my sword, _Ancalagon._ And Eragon, my oaths cannot be unbound for a simple reason. I am not bound by my true name…" said Ismira as she began walking towards Eragon purposefully, her sword spinning once in her hand. Eragon too began walking towards her quietly, realization dawning over his face.

"You gave your oaths willingly, _without_ the ancient language" he said softly as the distance between them lessened. Ismira smiled sadly and broke into a run as she rushed towards Eragon with her black sword raised.

Several tears openly slid down Eragon's face at the implications as he did the same, rushing towards Ismira with his pristine white robes rippling in the wind. A clear steely chime split the air as _Brisingr _came out of its sheath for the first time in eighty-five years, shining almost sorrowfully in the hand of its legendary wielder.

….

"You gave your oaths willingly, _without_ the ancient language" she heard Eragon say as he rushed towards Ismira with a hand upon his sword's hilt. Her heart broke as she saw Eragon's tears...seeing _his_ tears caused her a dull agony she could not rid herself of.

She heard a sniffling sound next to her, and turned slightly to see Varda crying silently in Laetri's arms, trying to see the fight through her tears. Laetri looked at her sorrowfully, her own clear blue eyes swimming.

Arya could only watch with misery as even through his tears, Eragon swept out _Brisingr _with a clear sound. She might have been imagining it, but the night seemed to grow brighter as _Brisingr_ was raised in his hand…she gasped slightly as she noted the details of the sword. _Brisingr_ was no longer only of the colour of the scales of Saphira, but had gleaming white streaking through its blade randomly.

But the sword was visible only for an instant, the instant for which it was drawn. _Brisingr_ met _Ancalagon_ with a sound that hurt her ears and shook the ground slightly. Ismira blurred into movement, attacking so fast that even her elven perception had trouble keeping up with the fight.

She seemed to be everywhere, attacking from all sides at once. But Eragon was a picture of calmness as he wove Brisingr through the air, catching and parrying away each and every one of Ismira's thrusts and slashes. Arya could see the serenity on his face as he looked only straight ahead, sensing the patterns of the sword in ways she did not understand.

Each time their swords met sparks burst into the air, and their swords met such continual frequency that Arya thought for a moment she saw elven fireworks. Ismira was extremely athletic and flexible attacking in awkward angles and unpredictable ways, but Eragon simply dispatched her attacks with flicks of _Brisingr_ so fast that it blurred even out of her sight.

With a shout, Ismira began a series of complex sword-patterns, succeeding in pushing Eragon back a step as she almost slipped through his defense. Eragon caught her unnaturally fast thrust on his sword-edge, and pushed it aside with a simple movement. Ismira backpedalled for a few yards as she held out her sword to the side once more.

"Ebrithil is really fast!" exclaimed Varda, her tears forgotten as she saw her master watch calmly as Ismira dashed towards him. Arya chuckled along with Laetri, agreeing completely. The four Dragons watched silently as Ismira jumped high into the air, twisting as she did so to deliver an extremely heavy blow that could probably split an armored Kull down the middle.

Eragon silently raised his sword and caught the blow on the edge of his blue-white blade. The noise of the impact fell painfully upon their ears as sparks fountained into the air at the clash, the combatants meeting each other's eyes as their swords struggled against each other. The sheer raw power and violence of the fight was breath-taking.

"I do not want to hurt you, Ismira. You must leave now and report that I am here" said Eragon quietly as he forced Ismira back in a contest of strength. Ismira glared back.

"You think killing him will free me?" she demanded, and whirled in a blurring circle to bring _Ancalagon_ to his neck. Her eyes widened as Eragon blocked the sword with his own, not blinking as he countered the move. He was impossibly fast, and his reflexes were extraordinary.

"Then it seems I really must defeat you to spare you his wrath" he said, ignoring Ismira's disdain. "I will be gentle about it, you two have suffered enough" Eragon said as he _flowed_ forward with a grace and power that would put even elves to shame.

The speed and grace with which he attacked seemed otherworldly…Arya watched with admiration as Eragon moved so fast and dexterously that he never seemed to touch the ground as he drove Ismira back several paces. He was like a mythical dancer of Alalea, flickering in and out of sight but with much more fury.

_What has happened to you, Eragon?_ She thought as she saw Eragon's utter mastery of the sword. She had never seen such flexibility and technique in her entire life, she thought, as Eragon slipped around a thrust of _Ancalagon _effortlessly, and seemed to float up into the air as he raised his sword.

With a deafening clang he brought down _Brisingr_ upon Ismira's still extended sword, tearing it violently out of her grasp. The sword went skittering away several yards and Ismira raised her hands towards Eragon's face and shouted a spell.

Arya cried out as dark red lightning blasted out at Eragon from Ismira's hands, lighting up the city. The Dragons roared in alarm and Belegroch stepped forward in defence of his Rider. _Watch_, said Laetri as Eragon _caught_ the red lightning on Brisingr with stunning reflexes and placed one hand upon its blade to push the offending magic back.

"_Thrysta_!" he said calmly, and pushed the lightning away with a flourish of his sword. Ismira grunted as she dissipated the spell's backlash, but Eragon pointed his sword to the burning houses behind Belegroch.

The fires that still burned high rose into the air, abandoning the houses. Eragon's eyes glowed, and they split into arrows that flew towards Ismira like countless locusts. Ismira's eyes widened and she summoned her sword as she jumped high into the air seating herself on her Dragon perfectly as he took off. The flaming weapons pounded themselves against her wards, and Eragon could feel them weakening.

_Leave them be, I will deal with them later _ said Eragon as his arrows of fire streamed out into the sky and lit up the black heavens with their brightness. He could see it was futile…the fire would not survive without magic at that height and he did not wish to kill her.

"_Brisingr" _he said and the remaining fire dissipated into the ground, causing him to blink as the landscape returned to darkness. He saw his apprentice jump off her perch in Laetri's arms as she ran towards him as fast as she could. He sheathed his sword with a sigh as he shook his head.

_Such a powerful Rider she has become…a great pity I was not able to instruct her or that I was unable to keep her safe._

_**Eragon….**_said Saphira as the Dragons still held their silence, watching as Varda flung herself into his arms. Eragon hugged her tightly as he felt relief at her safety. He felt Saphira and Sahloknir lend him their support as utter sadness hit him from the tragic reunion with his niece.

_**Let us do right by Varda. We have failed Ismira and her poor Dragon, but let us do right by Varda**_**, **she said as the princesses of Ellesmera walked towards her Rider with expressions of relief. Eragon agreed slowly as he held Varda tightly.

_Yes, Saphira. Let us do right by Varda._

…

Palencar was enjoying his morning tea quite happily, despite the multiple problems that had been brought down upon his head. Urgals, elves, dwarves…thank Gokukara he had those Riders as his allies. They had debated late into the night about siege plans and battle plans, so fervently that sometimes he had had to restrain himself from punching a stubborn general in the nose.

The grandly named 'Imperial College of War' had attracted several generals into its ranks, and had at some point dragooned him into recognizing it officially. Their tediousness was legendary…in fact when he had trouble sleeping, he called some of their members to expound to him the theories of war.

It made him sleep like a baby.

He sipped his tea, relaxing on his comfortable chair as he took in the view of the lovely landscape of Illirea from his balcony. The mobilization had begun and his city was stirring like an ant's nest.

Frantic knocking on his door interrupted his rather peaceful contemplation, and he got up with a sigh to open it. He sighed again as he saw a heavily breathing wide eyed page stare at him like he was Anurin reincarnated.

"Son, breathe easy" said Palencar, offering him some wine. He steadied the poor boy before he could faint and lead him to his chair. It was a testament to the boy's tiredness that he did not get up for several moments to greet him.

"Now are we relaxed and fine?" he asked patiently, and the page nodded frantically.

"Excellent. Tell me the news"

"Your Majesty, Nuada Shur'tugal respectfully requests your presence in the hall of the Riders. He is most insistent that you join him immediately and gave you this note" he said, handing him a note that opened at his touch.

"Thank you, Son. Now please leave" said Palencar peremptorily, watching as the boy ran out at the same pace. Shaking his head he read the note:

_Greetings, Majesty._

_Most important events have occurred yesterday, and Eragon-elda has called for a second council of the monarchs of Alagaesia. This time, Blodhgarm of Aiedail and Lords Dathedr and Fiolr will join us by scrying mirror._

_We have arranged a three-way communication, and urgently await your august presence. _

_Regards,_

_Nuada of the House of Miolandra_

_Shur'tugal abr Domiel._

Palencar rolled up the scroll, and belted on Zar'roc as he strode out of his quarters. His guard formed up behind him noiselessly as he made towards Nuada and the others.

_This had better be important._

…

Absolute silence reigned in the hall of the Riders as the situation was explained to them by a tense Queen Arya. Palencar turned to the large mirror on his right, the mirror that projected the Lords Fiolr and Dathedr.

"Fiolr-vor, I cannot convey the depth of my sorrow to you in words" he said sincerely, looking the ancient elf-lord in the eye. "You have the support of the Illirean throne in your vengeance, as does the elven Nation. The perpetrators have been found and executed, I hope?" he asked in a hard voice. The Riders all looked extremely angered at the news, Nuada literally crushing his goblet into some unknown shape.

Palencar raised an eyebrow as Fiolr turned to look at a mirror that showed him the Queen at Tarnag. Arya faced him tranquilly, only the slight tightening around her eyes betraying her tension.

"What says the Queen to King Palencar's query?"

From the third mirror to the right he saw Blodhgarm watching them all with a solemn expression from a lushly decorated room in Aiedail. As Arya made to answer, a door seemed to open at Tarnag and in walked the person they were all waiting for. Eragon Kingslayer walked in with Laetri Shur'tugal and Orik to occupy the remaining chairs at the table.

"It is to answer this question, Lord Fiolr, that I have called for this gathering crude though our communication is" said Eragon as he faced them all. Palencar was struck by the visible sadness on his face...something bad must have happened to cause that.

But Fiolr looked at the Lead Rider with scarce concealed impatience and anger.

"Shur'tugal, this is an elven affair. We do not need or require the assistance of the Riders, more specifically, you" he said shortly, and Dathedr looked disapproving at these words. Blodhgarm spoke to Fiolr with a reproving tone:

"Fiolr, it is not like you to lose your composure. Eragon-elda is there to help" he said in a persuasive voice, but Fiolr was so lost in the depths of revenge that he bypassed the ironclad customs of elven courtesy. Palencar, though he cursed the reason, was quite amused to see an elf lord of all things openly display emotions.

"I do not care what 'Eragon-elda' intends. Do not think, boy, that I have forgotten your effrontery in demanding Tamerlein from my house! Now you are here to delay what would be a speedy and fitting revenge upon those godforsaken dwarves!" he snarled, shaking off Dathedr's calming hand. Palencar shook his head, tensions were shooting high and derailing their purpose.

The Riders had gone rigid at this tirade, even Laetri looked at Fiolr with disappointment. Arya looked at him with open anger at his disrespect and seemed ready to abjure him. But Eragon raised his hand and said in a voice void of emotion.

"I am not here to delay anything, Fiolr" he said bluntly. Fiolr's fine elven feature bristled with rage at this disrespect, but Eragon continued as if not interrupted.

"If given my way, the Riders would have never returned to Alagaesia. But for several reasons we have done so, and in good time. After Vanir's investigations we have discovered the one who murdered your mate" he said, looking at Fiolr with regret compounded infinitely in his eyes. Palencar could see just how much this was affecting the Rider…he seemed prematurely aged.

"Who?" asked Fiolr shortly. Palencar saw Laetri grasp Eragon's hand, as if giving him strength. They waited impatiently as Eragon broke the silence after a few moments.

"Ismira, the missing Rider" he said, and Fiolr's rage became clearly visible on his face. Palencar had _never _seen an elf that angered…he could understand why they were called an elder race as he saw Fiolr's skin glow faintly as if he was giving off magic. Blodhgarm's eyes narrowed at this information, and Dathedr kept his composure but for a twitch of his eyelids.

Palencar disregarded the quiet of the Riders around him and looked directly at Eragon.

"Did you kill her, Kingslayer?" he asked quietly. Eragon looked so pained by this question that he staggered slightly, and Laetri squeezed his hand tightly once more. Arya did not speak, but her face showed her conflict about the situation.

But Orik looked disappointedly at Eragon as he replied. "He did not, having apparently made a promise to Roran Stronghammer to save her. Bah! Save her?" he spat at Eragon, and even Arya appeared shocked at this. Eragon looked at Orik with pain-filled eyes but still the dwarven King did not relent.

"She almost brought war upon mine people by her actions, Eragon! Countless of mine kin would have died at the hands of elves, perhaps exterminated completely. We named you our kin, and you decide to let go of the one who nearly caused our extinction!" he snarled, his temper flaring high.

At these words of the Dwarf king, everyone was silent. Eragon did not speak as he bowed his head slightly, his long silver hair hiding his expression. Blodhgarm turned to Orik with a terrifyingly cold expression.

"I would strike you down myself for that insult, dwarf!" he whispered coldly. "Aiedail has no wish to involve itself in the affairs of Alagaesia. If it were up to me, I would cut every bond the Riders have with that cursed land and begin anew!"

Before a distraught and angered Orik could reply, Fiolr spoke up to challenge Blodhgarm:

"Why do you castigate him, Blodhgarm-elda? The Dwarven King, though he is the King of a treacherous species, speaks the truth for a change" he said silkily, and Palencar did not see this going anywhere pleasant. He kept his silence, not wanting to anger anyone inadvertently. Curiously, even the Riders were silent at the abuse heaped upon their leader.

"Eragon Shadeslayer" questioned Fiolr. "Just answer me this: You wish to save your niece, a rogue Rider who killed my unborn son and second mate. I ask you, what makes her so special that she should escape the justice of the land?"

Palencar watched with trepidation as Eragon lifted his head to look directly into Fiolr's eyes through the scrying mirror.

"Nothing but this, Lord Fiolr: the fact that she was coerced to do these acts. By a Shade" he said softly, and Fiolr drew in a sharp breath. Eragon continued, looking directly at Fiolr. He spoke slowly and clearly in the old tongue as if he wanted to emphasize a point.

"By an elven Shade, in truth" he said and once more absolute silence took over the elf lords and Palencar. Palencar looked at Nuada and saw that none of the Riders were surprised. So they knew. Not that he would blame them immediately for keeping such things, he would not do so till he had a satisfactory reason.

Fiolr looked as if he wanted to cut down Eragon on the spot for suggesting such a thing, but was forced to accept it as truth as it was uttered in the ancient tongue.

"So, if anything, Fiolr, you have yourselves to blame. First, your incompetency as a race led to Ismira's capture. Secondly, a member of your race…a race incidentally that boasts its purity to such influences, turned himself into a Shade" he said firmly as he stared a stunned Fiolr down. By the look on Queen Arya's face, Palencar deduced that she was angered by the attack on the elven race.

"I move in a world of first causes and primal forces, Fiolr. If you wish to address the root of the problem…that is, slaying the _elven_ Shade, then I am with you" he continued. Arya looked coldly at Eragon, and said:

"Do not include all elves in this affair, master Rider" she said frostily. Eragon's face lost all its emotion as he looked at her with an emotionless expression.

"Why should I not? If we go by Fiolr's logic" he said with a calculating expression, staring at Fiolr and continuing, "Then I should distance myself from all elves and forsake them completely" he said as he looked piercingly at Arya.

"What are you saying?" asked Fiolr rudely, which still surprised Palencar. Eragon Kingslayer continued ominously not taking any notice of Fiolr, his eyes completely upon the Queen. Laetri shook her head, whispering in Eragon's ear urgently. Eragon's face calmed down immediately and he turned back to Fiolr.

"The fact remains" he said softly, his face regaining its composure. "that the Elven Shade is at the heart of all this. Direct your anger at him, Lord Fiolr, not at a victim of his"

Fiolr seemed to regain his composure, but Dathedr turned to Arya and asked: "My Queen, what did Ismira say when you confronted her with her black deed?" he asked curiously. Eragon's face tightened imperceptibly at this, and Palencar could only watch as the Riders and Elves battled with words.

"She said…she said that Damitha-kona was impeding her goals, and that it was her duty to kill her" said Arya in a quiet voice. At this Fiolr turned to Eragon with a disgusted face, even Dathedr seemed disapproving.

"Eragon Shadeslayer, you seem to have neglected that piece of information" said Dathedr carefully. Palencar could see how seriously elves took semantics in speech, and decided to step in.

"It hardly matters anyway. Our efforts should be directed towards solving problems we can deal with immediately. These matters should be left to the Riders" said Palencar, but Fiolr did not listen as he looked at Eragon with something close to open hatred.

"You concealed such an important thing from us" said Fiolr coldly. "It implies your niece had a choice not to commit that deed, but she nevertheless chose to do it. Eragon Shadeslayer, her life is forefeit. I myself will put her to the sword, this I swear by Nauda and Damitha!" he promised balefully.

"Fiolr, cease this madness at once" exclaimed Nuada, only to be silenced by Fiolr with a gesture. Eragon stood tall at this oath, his eyes glowing unnaturally as he too proclaimed:

"The matter of renegade Riders fall under the purview of the Riders of Aiedail. Anyone who interferes in _our_ affairs will be dealt with accordingly. Lord Fiolr, I can understand the despair of losing the one closest to you but this is madness. If you dare to kill Ismira Shur'tugal without my and the other rulers' consent" he whispered menacingly.

Arya subtly moved away from him, as did Laetri as the room in Tarnag actually began shaking from the force of his anger. Palencar had never heard of _anyone_ able to manipulate magic at such a raw level, the spectacle frightened him more than anything else. The Riders watched with open mouths as the room in Tarnag began to shake even more violently as Eragon stared directly at Orik and then back at the elf-lord.

"If anyone" he repeated again in a quiet voice. "If _anyone_ seeks to intercede unfairly in the matter of Riders once more…."

"…I will _end_ them" he said, his voice delivering no threats but a promise.

Fear reared in Palencar as he witnessed the goblets on the table burst into shards…reality seemed to _warp_ slightly around Eragon and he saw concern on Fiolr's face as he watched the terrifying display. He knew that after this it would take enormous effort to bring the Three race concordat back to strength, for Eragon Kingslayer had been pushed too far by them all.

"We must continue this later after we have all had a chance to clear our minds" said Laetri quietly, and Eragon nodded shortly as he cut off the scrying spell to all three locations with a whispered word. Blodhgarm looked gravely at Fiolr and then at Palencar.

"If you think about it slowly, you will realize that he speaks the truth" he said softly as he too severed the connections with a bow of his head. Fiolr shortly inclined his head to Palencar with a dazed expression and left, and Dathedr bowed more formally.

"We must reconvene, all of us, in person. These disagreements are dangerous and must be smoothed over immediately. King Palencar, I request you to hold a meeting of the monarchs at Illirea formally, at the earliest." he said crisply, as he too severed the connection with the traditional elven greeting.

Silence reigned in the hall of the Riders as the Shur'tugal and Palencar looked at each other and simply bowed their heads. Palencar banged his fist hard upon the exquisite teak table, causing the Riders to frown at him.

"Blast those Urgals" he said fervently. "And Blast those crazy elves" he cursed them as he flung a goblet at the wall, shattering it. Nuada stood up, his face a study in self-control.

"We must retire and consider these things separately, Majesty. Perhaps things will be clearer then" he said, as the Riders all rose to leave. Palencar too rose, murmuring:

"Perhaps it will, Nuada, perhaps it will"


	13. Chapter 13

**My update, dear readers. Thank you for your great encouragement and reviews. They are greatly appreciated. More reviews would be welcome, though. It would give me better feedback.**

**Thanks for reading!  
**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 13

"Master?"

Eragon turned as Varda seemed to be staring at him with an inquisitive look. They were in Celbedeil, and he had finished instructing her briefly on the long and bloody history of dwarves and Dragons. His young apprentice had been shaken by his fight with Ismira, no matter how much she tried to conceal it.

"Yes, Varda?"

Belgabad and Varda stared up at him with wide eyes, and Varda asked: "Are you a dwarf? Lord Undin told me you were a member of Durgrimst Ingietum yesterday, after…." Her voice trailed off, and a look of fear shot through her face. Eragon sighed, and knelt to look her in the eyes. No matter that she was a Rider…she was too young to see a battle, barely seven years of age.

"Do not be afraid of what happened, Varda" he said calmly. Varda shook her head, bravely trying to deny her fear. Belgabad nudged her side, trying to encourage her, but he could see that she was extremely troubled. Saphira spoke in his mind:

_**Eragon, you must bring her mind back to tranquillity as soon as possible. Her little Dragon tells me she has been having nightmares ever since that fight, nightmares of you being killed by Ismira. It is not allowing her to sleep, or to even function properly.**_

His heart clenched at what Saphira told him, and looked regretfully at Varda. It was as Umaroth had said; he shared such a deep bond with the young ones that he felt every bit of the suffering they would feel…the Eldunari had told him repeatedly not to coddle them so much. But he could not help it.

"Are you afraid for me, Varda?" he asked in a soft voice. The young Rider turned her face away, and he felt another pang as he saw tears flowing down the youngling's face. Belgabad looked at him pleadingly, and he took Varda's hands in his.

"Have you been having nightmares?" he enquired, and Varda turned to face him at last. He could see the fear written all over her face and one brief glance at her mind told him just how much she feared losing him. Her mind was maturing fast but she was not yet an adult.

"I am sorry" she said quietly, wiping away her tears with one hand. Eragon could admire her resolve, but he would not let his Riders become like Elves…at least among themselves, and with him. He would not let his apprentice become used to concealing her emotions so easily.

"You must not be sorry" reprimanded Eragon. "What did I tell you when you began the regimen?"

"You told me that we were not just Riders in Aiedail. You told me that we were all family" said Varda in a small voice. Eragon nodded firmly. He had made every effort possible to make that ideal a reality. There would be no falsehood and concealment in his city, only genuineness and love.

"I will never let my Riders suffer, not when I am alive. You are all my family. I raised many riders on Aiedail from their childhood, some I trained from their youth. But none of them would hide the fact that they needed my help, Varda" he said in the ancient language, and he saw Varda's face calm down considerably.

"Every time I close my eyes" said the young Rider, "I see her killing you with that red lightning, Ebrithil. I cannot…I cannot…" she whispered.

"Did I tell you the story of the crazy witch, Angela?" asked Eragon, with a twinkle in his eyes. Varda looked at him with a puzzled face and nodded. Eragon had told her a version of his story when she was five, a retelling that would not scare children.

"She can tell the future, can't she?" asked Varda in a subdued voice. Eragon squeezed her hand and continued: "Well, she told me that I would live forever… or so long that it might as well be forever. You know how she always predicts the truth, hmm? So I will live for a very _very _long time, Varda. You will not lose me."

Varda hugged him tightly, and Eragon could feel the utter relief in his apprentice. He could feel presences behind him, and one mental glance told him it was Arya and Gannel. But he did not turn back, only seeking to reassure Varda completely. He stood up with Varda perched securely in his arms. It was a foreign feeling to him, holding and raising children so personally…but it was something he would never ever want to lose.

As she buried her face in his shoulder he knew she was another person he could not bear to lose, much like Saphira, Laetri and Sahloknir and maybe even Arya. Varda looked at him with anxious eyes that seemed to _demand _an answer out of him.

"Ebrithil, will you be alive for the next…" she seemed to be struggling with something."…for the next five thousand years?" she asked with trepidation. Eragon wanted to smile at the young girl, he was sure that was the largest number she could visualize.

"Yes" he answered firmly. "For you, and for my Riders, I and Saphira will be alive even for the next five thousand years".

Her face lit up as he answered in the ancient language, she knew he had bound himself with his word. She seemed to be back to her old self as she began bombarding him with questions about Celbedeil. Eragon halted her questions gently, and turned to face the visitors.

"I was just instructing my young apprentice here" he said, indicating Varda. Arya nodded with shining eyes, and glanced at Varda. Gannel stepped forth and said, "I have important matters to discuss with you all, Shadeslayer. And they are not for the ears of children."

"I'm not a child" declared Varda determinedly. Belgabad supported her with a growl, staring at Gannel with his unnaturally green eyes. Gannel stared at them with amusement, and Eragon laid a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. With a great flash of Indigo light he disappeared from the dwarven temple and reappeared a few moments later.

"What was it you wished to discuss with me, Gannel?" he asked, having left Varda and Belgabad with Saphira and the other Dragons. Arya immediately raised her hand and hid them from prying ears with magic. Gannel's face took on a grave demeanour as he looked at Eragon with a piercing look.

"I will be quite direct, Shadeslayer" stated Gannel, stroking his large beard. "Mine King wishes for you to know that for now the dwarves will not be able to participate in the war against the Urgals, if our support is necessary. We must be ready against an elven incursion."

At this he shot a furious look at Arya, who stared back with a hard face. Eragon sighed, it appeared that the Elven Shade's plans were having consequences deeper than was anticipated. With the elves and dwarves tied down with these suspicions, the Urgals would be that much harder to meet in battle.

"I assume that the elves are the same?" he asked Arya, who nodded and shot Gannel a disdainful look. "I am sorry, Eragon. My people are very hard to rouse to anger, but once it is done they are like a force of nature. They cannot accept that it is Ismira who has done this deed, and resentments they have buried in their hearts for Galbatorix has been turned to Ismira. You know how foul it is to kill an Elven Child".

"You should have killed her, Shadeslayer!" spat Gannel. "If you had done this, then the conflict everywhere would have been reduced considerably. We would have no need to fear Elves, who still suspect our hand in Captain Damitha's murder"

"Yes, your king made that point very clear", said Eragon absently. Suspicion began to grown in his mind as he began to put together several happenings since his return, things that had _somehow_ happened so much in co-ordination that it was an alarm by itself.

"Does it not strike you both as odd" he commented slowly, "that all the races are at war or at the brink of war within a matter of a month? Since I returned, Urgals have made their play and Palencar has responded enthusiastically. Elves and dwarves have high tension between them, and not even their rulers are able to contain them."

"You speak the truth" agreed Arya in a considering tone as they began walking the beautifully tapestried halls of Celbedeil. Gannel had gone silent, simply pondering the truths that Eragon had laid out for them. They stopped at the extremely detailed sculpture of the first Eragon, and Gannel spoke:

"That may be true, Shadeslayer" he conceded. "It all smells of some higher design we are as yet unable to perceive. But what is true is the fact that the four races are out of balance, and the fact that the Riders are only complicating and aggravating matters."

Arya looked at him sardonically, "Grimstborith, the Riders are not Guntera or Helzvog to simply wave their hands and make your problems disappear. We must strive for it no matter our powers".

Gannel seemed ready to reply heatedly, but Eragon cut in: "She speaks right. And I am afraid that without Elven support or without the Knurlan, the war will get that much harder. Are you sure that your peoples will not be ready within the foreseeable future, that you cannot allay their turmoil and point them towards our common goals?"

There was silence for a few moments.

"We cannot be ready as you demand, Shadeslayer" said Gannel, expelling a large breath. "I see the sense of your argument but it will take time to unwind the accumulated resentment and wariness of our chieftains. I will work towards it, this I promise you", he said earnestly.

Arya sighed, and absently tucked her dark tresses behind her pointed ears. Eragon gazed at her, seeing traces of worry and care in her entire bearing. Elves were not touched by time, true, but even the wisest of Elves were not left unmarked by the passing of the years. Lineage had put his old friend Arya in a position he certainly did not envy…she too carried a heavy burden.

"I will abdicate as soon as possible. Dellanir's laws can only be stretched so much" she said wearily. Gannel's eyes widened, and his hands started shaking. Eragon knew well the reason…if a sympathiser of Fiolr or Fiolr himself were to take the throne, then the consequences would be severe. Alarm shot through him in waves as he considered the idea though he did not show it.

_**Little one, too many things are happening too fast. The Elven succession is another affair we do not want to go badly. You know what you must ask of Arya…**_

_I do, Saphira. Elves and dwarves are tied down till they resolve their problems, and the humans are going to war with the Urgals. I refuse to let the Riders out in force…something dark is happening, partner of my heart._

"Then" he said in a heavy voice, turning to Arya, "You must return to Ellesmera. If you are able to influence the succession, please do so. We cannot have Fiolr's faction take the throne of the most powerful race of Alagaesia".

Arya nodded, looking at him with a sliver of hope. "Are you not coming?" she asked softly. Eragon shook his head regretfully.

"I cannot get mired in Elven politics when this much darkness stalks the land. I have too much to do, Arya. We will fly out into the Kingdom as you fly to Ellesmera. I will go to the tower of Ristvak'baen, and will begin my search for the Shade from there." he concluded.

Arya's eyes widened, as did Gannel's.

"Why there, Shadeslayer? I believe the Rider Ildarien is taking a detachment of magicians to act as a strike force. Will not your work be impeded in such circumstances?" he asked incredulously.

"I will not participate in the war, Gannel, Arya. This is only so I can protect Roran's grandchildren and Carvahall…and something tells me my search should begin there. I will also collect Roran from Farthen Dur as we leave." stated Eragon, causing their surprise to heighten even more. He had sensed an undefinable darkness from near that place during the times he had reached out to Alagaesia and felt it was the best place to begin with.

"This is the unanimous advice of all the Eldunari to me. They believe that I must not take the field unless our Order is in danger. Apparently, I am far too precious to directly involve myself in such a risky endeavour."

"But you fought Ismira, and you may have to fight Urgals at Carvahall." pointed out Arya.

Eragon snorted. "Urgals I can deal with, and Ismira…She is a child compared to me, Arya. She is a powerful Rider, but to challenge me she will need another hundred years of tutelage not even a Shade can provide."

It was not a statement made in pride, for his voice was perfectly stating a fact. Ismira was as strong as any Rider on Aiedail, perhaps even strong enough to challenge Invida confidently and win…but not Laetri or Blodhgarm, and definitely not him.

"I am glad" said Gannel, "That you are our kin. I and Orik deeply regret our inability to help the Riders in their time of need. Rest assured, Shadeslayer, that we will put right our nation and come to your side whenever it is that you call for us", he said in a heartfelt voice.

"I eagerly await the day" replied Eragon politely and watched as the Dwarven priest shuffled away with an acknowledging bow. Arya was watching him silently and he assumed that she was still considering his declaration.

"What of Carvahall? You may have to fight there, you know. That contradicts the orders of the Eldunari" said Arya insistently. Eragon smiled and said in a distant voice:

"Something tells me that Carvahall will produce many Riders, that it will be an important place in the future. That many paths will converge there. Umaroth-elda agrees with me. It is a place I have to keep safe." he said in the ancient language, and Arya acknowledged him with a sigh.

"Shall we walk, Eragon?" she asked him, evaluating him carefully. He observed her a little more carefully, and noted that her dress of periwinkle blue was not at all reacting to their surroundings. It was far too still…as if she were wearing armor of some sort.

"Is there something wrong with my dress?" she asked him self-consciously, as he watched him observe her discerningly. Eragon smiled, and shook his head.

"No, Arya. Your dress is beautiful, woven by Niduen of house Miolandra I presume?" he asked curiously. Arya nodded, looking with wide eyes as he stepped into her personal space and caressed the right sleeve of her dress with two fingers. He could smell her perfectly, the scent of crushed pine needles bringing a sense of nostalgia to him.

"Eragon…" she whispered, looking at him with large and surprised emerald eyes.

"Forgive me" murmured Eragon as he hastily stepped back. "I am a student of these things, and I see just how much magic is woven into these fabrics. I doubt whether there is any other armour in Alagaesia that surpasses the clothes that you wear now…am I right?"

Arya seemed to gather herself within an instant but he still saw the pure surprise in her face. He shook his head, berating himself for his forwardness. The Nine often teased him for his curiosity about magic, even the students knew that.

"Yes" said Arya. "Though I am truly surprised at how you deduced such a thing. I wish you would not tell anyone, Eragon. Wiol eka."

"As you wish" assented Eragon, studying her closely. "As to how, I have studied magic deeply and Laetri taught me much as well. I could feel the fey magics upon your raiment…do you fear assassination here in Tarnag?" he asked her softly.

"One can never be too careful" replied Arya in as soft a voice, as they stood in the corridor surrounded by tapestries of marauding dragons. They simply stared at each other in the silence and felt no need to make any small talk.

_The first Eragon…he changed many things, Saphira, _he thought wistfully as he stared into Arya's bright emerald eyes. He was surprised greatly by the fact that he had to consciously control himself from getting lost in their depths now. Loss and despair surged through him as he wondered on how the sunlight of the morning seemed to give her form an otherworldly shine.

He shook his head.

_A hundred years of pain and torture has not taught me to let go of her. Even now some small lost part of me is attracted to her…Saphira, what is wrong with me? Am I someone who simply relishes my own pain?_

_**You are neither, my Eragon**_, said Saphira to him in a voice of compassion and slight awe. _**I did not know it was possible to love anyone this much. What is not clear to your agitated mind is clear to my objective view. **_

_What are you saying?_

_**I once saw in Aiedail a young deer whose mother was just killed by the claws of a lion. It was cowering defenceless at the predatory gaze of its hunter. But before the lion could do anything else…its mother's still dying body threw itself at the Lion in a vain bid to defend its young. I have little doubt that it was already dead, but the instincts ingrained into its body would not let its young die.**_

_I see what you are saying. Perhaps it is not an apt analogy…but good enough,_ said Eragon, wondering not for the first time what would have happened to him if he had rejected Angela's offer of prophecy.

A quick movement later, he found himself being embraced tightly by Arya who had buried her head in his shoulders. Slowly he put his arms around her, feeling alarmed as he felt a slight wetness upon his robes.

He looked down at the Elven Queen with an understanding look…she must be wracked with guilt for his suffering. Arya was never one for emotional displays, and he had often admired that about her and detested it at the same time. He felt slight tremors take her body, and slowly ran his hand through her curly black tresses.

Despite his difficulty to feel any type of true emotion with her, he could not deny two things. He could never see her hurt, and he could never deny her beauty.

"Did you hear what Saphira said?" he asked, wondering why Saphira had included Arya in that conversation. Feeling Saphira's denial of this, he winced as Arya tightened her hold on him.

"She and Firnen were linked…I heard it through Firnen" she murmured. Slowly she turned her face up to meet his eyes, suddenly seeming to realize their less than appropriate embrace. Eragon thought she would let go of him but she surprised him once more by holding on.

He had to put her mind at peace. His torment was his alone to bear, and no one else's. He had even spared Saphira from the brunt of his pain by cutting off their bond for close to two years.

_**I will NEVER forgive you for that!**_ Growled Saphira angrily at Eragon, emanating enough rage to scare an army of Kull into submission. Eragon sighed as Arya laid her head back into his shoulder…it was nice holding her.

_My dear one, I would take your anger any day over your suffering_, he said to his dragon and felt her withdraw from his mind immediately. She had never let go of her anger against him for his actions after the incident with the Spirits, and would flare into a rage anytime it was brought up.

"Eragon" said Arya in her dulcet voice. "I am truly sorry" she said in a voice of deepest apology, and he was shocked as he saw slow tears stream down her flawless face. Never had she showed that much emotion for his sake, ever.

"Do not-" he began, but Arya stopped the words coming from his mouth by placing a hand on his lips. His eyes widened even more, and he felt Sahloknir's chuckles in the background of his mind.

"I have treated you deplorably in the past, Eragon" she said, looking straight into his eyes. "I had no right to dismiss your feelings for me, to assume and cast your feelings into what I wanted to see. And for my presumption you have suffered more than anyone I have ever known…" she whispered sadly.

Eragon truly admired her empathy, which he always knew burnt strong beneath layers of elvish coldness and decorum.

"Most of all" she continued with the side of her face against his chest, "I regret the way we parted. I sent you away with no real promise or reassurance, Eragon. I do not wish to make any excuses, but you must understand my frame of mind every time you told me your feelings for me".

_Perhaps you should let her go, Ebrithil?_ Said Sahloknir in an amused voice. Eragon quieted him immediately as Arya showed no signs of wanting to disengage.

_Quiet, Sahloknir_ he said shortly, feeling the amusement of the Golden dragon increase. Arya continued and with their closeness, he could almost feel the pure regret of the Queen.

"I was broken by Durza, Eragon. I felt much older than my hundred years of age when you rescued me…when you first asked me for my love during the Agaeti Blodhren, I was torn. I did not wish to hurt you, but I never did feel for you in that capacity then. You were far too young, a child to my experience. It felt very wrong, even more so after I lost Faolin" she confessed in a low voice.

"I understand, you know. Better than you would think. Alanna tried to court me after she finished her apprenticeship in my guidance" he said gently. That had been a very hard time for him, and he had been forced to tell Alanna what had truly happened to him. To say his then apprentice had been mortified would be an understatement.

"She did?" asked Arya in a curious voice, and Eragon chuckled humourlessly. "She did indeed…it reminded me of how I had asked you during the Agaeti Blodhren, perhaps too much. Let me show you" he said, and felt Arya's mind open to his. He carefully touched her mind and felt her awe at the overwhelming strength of his mind. Closing his eyes, he let the memories flow through their link.

_The stars in the sky were bright indeed, and Eragon took in the entirety of the sky from the top of his tower. His lips curved in a small smile as he saw the star Aiedail shine brightly over his city Aiedail. _

_The city of the Riders was awash with merriment and joy as the Riders celebrated Agaeti Blodhren, in conjunction with the celebration on Ellesmera. He could see the elven Riders cause fireworks to appear high in the sky and light up Aiedail's soaring marble spires and vast squares with abandon._

_Saphira was drinking, and he had to use magic upon himself to rid himself of the effects. As he stood upon the parapet of the tower and observed his city, he felt a strong sense of pride in himself. Today he was fifty years of age and he had accomplished much in such a small period._

"_Ebrithil?" came a soft voice behind him, and he saw the extraordinarily beautiful form of his apprentices Alanna. Dusan smiled at him as he seemingly appeared out of thin air next to his sister, but Eragon knew better. _

_Dusan seemed to like the anonymity invisibility offered, and had taken to walking around so. Eragon shook his head at him, and rose to greet his apprentices._

"_Dusan, Alanna. Thank you for coming" he said quietly, and nodded at the night sky. "It is a beautiful sky tonight, is it not?" he asked idly, and Alanna nodded. _

"_It is, Ebrithil" she said, and remained tranquil. Even as children they were extraordinarily composed, and he loved that about them. It was as if they had learned half of what he had intended to teach them._

"_Dusan and Alanna, I have trained you now for twenty years" he said calmly with a hint of pride in his voice. "You have learnt much, and have become a great hope for our Order in the centuries to come. I have summoned you here to tell you something important"._

"_Yes, Ebrithil?"_

"_Your apprenticeship is now at an end" he said with a hint of sadness, he had enjoyed teaching the two children very much. They had become a great solace to him, pulling him out of his torment ridden years like saving graces along with Laetri and Saphira._

_They looked at him with open grief upon their faces, but Dusan mastered himself fast. But Alanna was looking at him with pure sadness…and an emotion he did not want to place._

"_I knew this would happen" murmured Dusan. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but stopped as he saw Alanna. Something seemed to pass between them for a moment, and he bowed to Eragon deeply._

"_Ebrithil, It was an honour to learn under your guidance. Even though you will not teach us formally anymore you will always be our teacher, and the person who will always watch over us. After our parents died in the war, you were everything to us. You were more than just a teacher…you were like my father and brother at once" he said, speaking in the ancient tongue._

_Eragon felt a slight wetness in his eyes, but willed it away._

"_I am honoured that you feel so, Dusan. You will become a great Rider…one whose name will be remembered for centuries to come" he replied solemnly, and noted that as Dusan withdrew respectfully Alanna had not moved an inch. _

_As they watched the fireworks and the heavenly city's celebration, he waited for Alanna to speak._

"_Ebrithil, may I broach…a somewhat personal matter with you?" she asked cautiously. Eragon nodded curiously. Alanna seemed to gather herself visibly, and she stepped up close to him. He could see the light of magic in her face, and a kind of pure and innocent beauty that made him want to shield his apprentice from any harm._

_She was an extremely beautiful young Rider, someone he was proud to have taught._

"_After…after all these years of learning from you, Eragon-elda, after seeing with my own eyes your wisdom and kindness and your great power…I have found that I can understand you to a certain degree" she said, her lavender eyes piercing and holding his gaze._

"_You seem to be in terrible pain" she whispered, and Eragon flinched. She intertwined her hand with his and continued, "I can hear your screams every night, Ebrithil. It tears my heart to see you suffer so. You are too important to me…too precious."_

"_What are you saying, Alanna?'_

"_I want to share your life, Eragon-elda, your pain and your joy. As a former student, as a fellow Rider…and as your mate" she whispered, laying her heart open to him. Eragon stood frozen with shock, unable to believe what he was hearing._

_She was only some five years younger than him, but he did not see her as a potential mate. He would have to tell her everything. He could not let her have this fester within her like within him…_

"_I would like to show you something" he said, and reached out to her with his mind._

He cut his link with Arya, and gently disengaged from their embrace. She looked at him with a sense of wonder and faint relief, knowing that he really did understand. Eragon slowly began to walk towards the exit in her company and let silence prevail for a time.

"I do not resent you, Arya" he said suddenly. "What happened cannot be changed. Like I had to break Alanna's heart because I myself was broken; you did the same to me. I cannot fault you for that because I can understand".

Arya took his hand in hers, and rose on her toes to kiss him gently on his cheek.

"You have always been patient and forgiving with me, Eragon. I see how much you have grown not only when I remember your fight with Ismira…but when I see you with Varda and when I hear of your life" she murmured.

Then she said something that really shocked him.

"You are everything I ever wanted to be. I want to be like you, able to follow the heart and ideals at the same time" she said, tightening her grip on his hand and looking down at the ground. "Even in your youth you made me learn several things, important things. But now…you have far surpassed me in all ways."

Eragon opened and closed his mouth with surprise. _You are really not good with women, Ebrithil_ needled Sahloknir, but he paid no attention.

"I choose to be a Rider" she said firmly. "Even in your brief stay here you have shown me that my abdication from the throne is long overdue. I crave the freedom of the Riders, to fly with my Dragon and my brethren freely in the skies. I will go to Ellesmera for now and anoint a favourable monarch in my place. And then, I will come back to you and fly by your side as a fellow Rider, Eragon, if you will still have us", she promised him in an emotional voice.

"You are welcome to fly with us, Arya. Always. Despite what I said in the past you will always have a place in Aiedail" he said, and turned to her mischievously. "And there is one thing I can never surpass you in, Elf Queen, not in a hundred thousand years."

They walked out of the sculpted doors into the city of Tarnag, noting the slowly increasing hustle and bustle of the city. Arya turned to him curiously.

"Oh, and what is that?"

"Your beauty" he smiled, and Arya threw her head back and laughed melodiously. The dwarves stopped working as they beheld him put an arm around Arya's shoulders and join in her laughter. The dwarves seemed giddy with joy, and birds trilled in every tree in Tarnag.

For the first time he felt true hope that he and Arya would one day reach a place of peace…perhaps even one of joy.

….

"Uh, excuse me" said Palencar politely to the Rider Barristan, who for some reason had taken up residence in his favourite chair. The Rider never looked up, dozing happily in his elf-crafted chair.

"Barristan, wake up" he asked quietly, a frown forming on his face. It was night in Illirea and he too was quite tired after a day of debates and verbal war with his nobles. True, he had stirred up quite the storm with his firebrand personality that day and had done quite well in rousing the nations.

"Go away" rasped Barristan, curling up in the chair.

He glanced once at Nuada, who looked slightly amused at Barristan's actions. Ildarien looked annoyed, very much so. He pointed his hand to the pail of water in the corner and said:

"_Adurna Risa"_

Three balls of water rose from the pail and deceptively floated towards Barristan's face. Palencar grinned…he had always liked pranks even as a boy. Memories came to him, memories of how he used to wake his mother by splashing his glass of milk on her face. It had become a game to him at a point of time, waking early exclusively for that reason during his early boyhood.

"Still feeling sleepy?" asked Leya in a quiet voice, and the Riders all seemed to lean forward with anticipation. Barristan shooed them away sleepily, and Nuada nodded to Ildarien. The raven haired elf gladly released his spell and the water splashed on the sleeping Rider with a _splat._

"What the-" exclaimed Barristan, drawing his sword with a yell. Leya laughed openly at him, merriment dancing in her eyes as she took in the sight of Barristan traipsing around like some befuddled calf. Palencar shoved him away and sat down on his chair quickly, glaring at Barristan.

"This is my chair, Shur'tugal" he said firmly, and Nuada looked amused at the king. The Rider seated himself in one of the many chairs in the chamber and replied:

"Duly noted, majesty. However we have important news to consider. I believe we can stop worrying about Baron Holcomb and Carvahall for now." said Nuada with the faintest trace of smugness. The others looked at him interestedly, and Palencar was particularly interested.

"And why is that, Nuada Shur'tugal?" he asked. Nuada actually seemed excited and relieved at the same time as he considered them all before he spoke.

"Eragon-elda is going there!" he said with a wide smile, and the same smiles broke out on his fellows. Palencar looked on feeling puzzled as Leya heaved a sigh of relief and Barristan seemed to slump with his emotions.

"I do not understand" he said, looking at the suddenly uplifted Riders. "Eragon Shur'tugal is but one man, however powerful he may be. I do not think he can actually hold back an Urgal army" he said reasonably, and paused in his critique as he saw the Riders looking at him pityingly.

"If _Ebrithil_ takes the field against the Urgals" said Barristan in a voice wringing with certainty and passion, "it will be _over_ for them. I do not really know of his abilities, Majesty, but he has powers and prowess that are indescribable. At least, that is what Yaela told me a few years ago."

"Excellent" said Palencar, clapping Barristan doubtfully on his shoulders. "Are we to stop our plans then?"

Nuada shook his head. "On the contrary, we must execute them with more diligence. Eragon-elda is going there for another reason entirely, but he has promised to shield only Carvahall from harm. You can be sure that he will uphold his promise…not even the entire Urgal nation will be able to take Carvahall as long as he is present there."

Palencar sat silently, contemplating the situation. He was no one to order Eragon around, nor did he want to. If there was anyone he could trust with the well-being of his people and Alagaesia it was the Lead Rider. If what Nuada said was true, he would take advantage of the fact that Carvahall would be a safe haven and use his troops with that strategy.

"His help is appreciated even if coincidental" he said finally. "This frees our troops from going to Carvahall's aid, and from holding it. We can now concentrate these divisions upon the frontlines and bolster our numbers. Gokukara knows that we need numbers when we meet those damned Kull!"

"So we proceed with the five-pronged attack?" questioned Ildarien. Palencar thought furiously…he was done wasting time with the grandiose notions of the so-called "War College". The final decision lay with him anyways, and he had humoured them long enough.

"We reduce it to four-prongs", he said grimly. "The Kingslayer has freed us from a great task, and we will take advantage of that fact. Nuada, can you ride with me and Barristan as we come in with the main army? I think your talents as a statesman and strategist is too valuable."

"I agree", said Nuada. "I assume that our infiltrating nighthawks are on their way to scout the Urgal nation?" he asked gravely. Palencar nodded.

"Veteran Captain Lord Garven is leading a platoon of fifty nighthawks to enter the spine through different passes. I daresay they will have the information needed by the time we begin to mobilize" stated Palencar. Nuada clasped his hands solemnly.

"So we are well on our way. Ildarien, have you selected the men you find suitable for your force?" he asked the raven haired Rider. Ildarien nodded.

"It was hard, but I did it. I believe my men to be capable of what we are to execute, and I trust them. They are worthy", he said in a firm voice. Silence fell in the room as they considered the sudden turn the war had taken in its planning stages. Barristan rubbed out some water from his eyes sleepily and Palencar could not fault him. Even Riders would get tired after working industriously over battle plans for three days straight.

"Of course", he said suddenly, pinning the Riders with his sharp gaze. "All this will work only if Carvahall is unassailable. I have the deepest respect for the Kingslayer, but will he be able to hold Carvahall during the war?"

Ildarien snorted.

"Your Majesty" he said calmly. "Let me assure you that this is what will happen: Eragon-elda will go to Carvahall, and the Urgals will attack there eventually. But they will do so only once, this I promise you. I have heard personally from the Eldunari that Eragon-elda is Vrael's equal at the least. I would give anything to see him fight in a true battle, him and Laetri both."

Palencar could not help but feel awe at this passionate statement. They spoke in the ancient language, and he had to believe what they said. Nuada held his gaze and said:

"They will understand what it means to face the Lightbringer and his Dragon, Your Majesty" he said in a tone of finality. "You need have no worries about Carvahall. I personally promise you that it will be safe from all harm."


	14. Chapter 14

**Dear readers!**

**Your positive responses, as always, are greatly appreciated. I read each and every review and though I cannot find time to reply to all of you, know that I find your thoughts and suggestions extremely encouraging. Thank you for your support!**

**Thank you.**

**Sincerely,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 14

"You need to relax, Roran" said Eragon smilingly as Roran held on to the saddle tightly. Saphira and Sahloknir were producing the draconic versions of laughter, and Laetri was looking at him with a delighted face. Of all the Elves he knew, she was the most light hearted one.

"Eragon, that was not funny" snarled Roran as he determinedly looked down and flinched violently. They were several thousand feet high in the air, the earth looking like a map of sorts. They were even higher up than most eagles could hope to fly…only his spell kept them from freezing to death.

"Roran-vor, you have to admit it" laughed Laetri with her blue eyes twinkling. "What Eragon did _was_ funny. I knew he would fetch you from Farthen Dur with that spell, but the expression on your face as you saw how high you were…" she doubled up with laughter. Roran stared at her with amazement as the sound of pure elven laughter soothed him and lifted his spirits more than ever.

Eragon exchanged another glance with Laetri, and they both laughed delightedly at the infuriated expression on Roran's face. Roran grumbled: "Fine", with a disgruntled expression. Then a wicked look came on to his face as he looked at Sahloknir and his Rider flying alongside Saphira and themselves.

"You know, Laetri svit-kona" he said gleefully, his lined face seeming to regain its youth as he smiled, "you have spent a hundred years with Eragon, hmm?"

"I have" said Laetri. "We have learnt and seen much together in these years haven't we, Eragon-elda?" she asked nostalgically. Eragon nodded solemnly at this statement…he and Laetri had experienced far too much for their life until now, so much so that his Riders often told him he looked several centuries older than his age.

"Then" cut in Roran, shooting smug glances at Eragon, "you will not mind knowing how a thirteen year old Eragon made a girl faint with his…ah, earnest love?" he asked delicately, looking at Eragon's outraged face with satisfaction.

Laetri's large blue eyes widened with joy as she turned her attention upon Roran. "Tell me please. I have often longed to hear the youthful exploits of our glorious leader" she said innocently, and looked at Eragon. "I might just relate your early heroics to the Riders, Eragon-elda. Think of how your reputation will-"

"Oh, you will, hmm?" questioned Eragon and disappeared in a flash of Indigo light causing Roran to shout out in surprise. A flash of light on Sahloknir's saddle caused him to look at Eragon appearing behind Laetri, and whispering in her ear for a few moments. The silver-haired elf looked at Eragon for a moment and spoke.

"We have an agreement" she said mock-seriously. Eragon nodded mock-seriously as well, and they sealed their deal with a handshake.

_Well, Roran. Tell us please. Tell us how Eragon embarrassed himself in front of a snotty little girl_, said Sahloknir, causing Saphira to growl playfully at him. As the floating clouds were lit up by gentle shafts of light and the whole sky seemed afire, and they just drifted forwards peacefully on the two Dragons.

Eragon had never heard Laetri laugh this much in all their years together and he realized that he liked the sound. No…not just like, he _loved_ the sound just as much as he loved Arya's laugh. Roran was retelling the story with an exuberance Eragon had always associated with him, and at last he could see traces of a much younger Roran Stronghammer.

"…and then, Garrow made him apologize for stealing her dolls. Then Eragon the chivalrous decided that he had done wrong to the lovely maid, and decided to add a token of his apology. Gave he the candy of Gertrude to Saleria and earned for himself a kiss on the cheek…"

Eragon blushed faintly and Laetri could not help but notice the action. His childhood held great power over him still for they represented his true self better than any name in the ancient language ever could. Slowly he felt Laetri hold his hand, and heard her velvet voice in his mind.

_Are you blushing, Eragon-elda?_, she asked playfully but to no avail, as Eragon maintained a dignified silence. _**Little one, tell her the truth. You were blushing like an innocent village girl!**_ Exclaimed Saphira happily, and Eragon felt the undertones of her emotions. Roran continued his tale oblivious to their conversation, now waving his hands animatedly to emphasize his story.

"…and then he went poetic in further apology, and told her that her 'hair shone like the strands of heaven's light, and her eyes were gateways to the blessed lands', and she blinked at him for a moment. And…and then…" guffawed Roran, "she fainted on him! Magda thought he had killed her daughter or something!"

"Really?" snorted Laetri with bubbling laughter, squeezing his hand involuntarily. Eragon gave Roran a silent glare as Sahloknir's amused voice sounded in their minds: _Ebrithil, where did you even hear those lines?_

Their merriment stopped abruptly as they felt a vast tide of sadness from Eragon's mind, even Roran felt it. _Brom told me_, he said softly as he remembered times of his childhood he had thought were long faded from his memory. _He told me that was what Irnstad Shadeslayer said to the elf Naina as they stood victorious at the devastated site of Luthivira._

Laetri laid her head on his shoulder as Sahloknir and Saphira flew forwards fast as an arrow, her lustrous silver hair caressing his face gently. Slowly he put his arms around her from behind, encircling her waist and hugging her to him tenderly. _Naina was the most fortunate of elf-maids, Eragon-elda, to have received a gift such as the one from Irnstad. Just like the gift you gave me, _said Laetri with her mind as she turned her face to the bright sky and closed her eyes. Eragon's heart beat slightly faster as he felt Laetri's otherworldly beauty so close to him and her words touched him more than anything else.

As he felt Saphira and Sahloknir pour comfort and reassurance into his mind, and Roran look at him with a look of brotherly support he had wanted for so long, he felt like…shirking duty. Self-mortification overtook him at this traitorous thought, but he could not help himself.

A seed of desire was born in him to simply take his precious ones and retire to Aiedail; it seemed to burn in him like a fire…he wanted them away from the wars, Shades and rebellions. As he beheld the radiantly beautiful elf woman he held in his arms so closely, that longing intensified.

_**Eragon…what are you thinking?**_ Asked Saphira in an amazed and somewhat scared voice. That snapped him out of his reverie, for his beautiful Saphira was fearless. His eyes softened as he observed Laetri lay herself fully on his chest, and drift into the elven trance smoothly, and his arms tightened about her waist slightly. For once he was thankful of Sahloknir's silence.

_It is like I am seeing you all for the first time_, Eragon's voice resounded in her mind. _You, Laetri, Arya and their Dragons and Orik and of course my Riders and Varda. You were right, Saphira. Alagaesia is doing something to me…call it healing if you will, but something is happening._

_**What is happening?**_ Asked Saphira's voice, joined by Sahloknir. He brushed Laetri's beautiful silver hair out of her face, amazed by how alike it was to the colour of his own hair. A serene smile seemed to drift across her face, and she dreamt content in his arms, more content than he had ever seen her.

_I do not hurt anymore_, said Eragon reverently and a full smile lit up his face. _When I have you three with me here in Alagaesia, I feel alleviated. Like a great burden lifted off my back. _

_**Even in trance, she supports you. I have never said this before, Eragon, but we have never thanked her for her succour over the years. She has experienced unimaginable pain and even shared Sahloknir to save you! **_

_I owe her everything I am today, Saphira,_ acknowledged Eragon, murmuring a spell to steady Roran as even he fell asleep. _We are as close as two souls can be without being Rider and Dragon,_ he mused as he held on to Laetri gently but firmly.

Laetri was an elf woman so beautiful and wise that sometimes he wanted to only stare at her, drinking in the beauty she seemed to simply exude. She was several centuries older than Arya, had seen more than her, and yet she managed to dance and sing and find joy in even the darkest of times.

_Arya said she wanted to be like me,_ said Eragon to Saphira wistfully. _But I want to be like Laetri, to be able to find joy in what one has instead of lusting for more. She has gone through such terrible pain and darkness, and yet it does not touch her. _

_Laetri is even more special than me_, he said with suspiciously wet eyes. The two dragons remained quiet as they rapidly gained on Ristvak'baen.

_Wake me after we are there, Saphira_, said Eragon quietly. _I feel like resting at last, after five years of infrequent sleep or trance. I feel…lighter._

With magic he steadied himself to go into the trance even as he sat with Laetri snug in his arms. As the comforting darkness swallowed his perception he drifted into the intermediate reality of waking dreams.

_**Sleep, Eragon…**_came the soothing voice of Saphira and he was lost to the world, and therefore missed the Rider in his embrace open her bright blue eyes that were rife with a troubled joy.

…

_If you would stop your excited scratching of my scales, I could focus on my flight,_ Firnen said to the small white Dragon that had seated itself between Arya and Varda. Varda seemed to be very reserved as she sat silently on the saddle of the massive green dragon.

They had been flying nonstop towards Ellesmera, and they only had to reach the outpost of Ceris. In Ceris they had a group of magicians who could do an extremely worded version of what Eragon did so effortlessly, and they could reach Ellesmera in the blink of an eye. It was a facility available only to the ones who most needed it, and only in the most urgent of times.

_Uh…can I ask a question two-legs-pointy ear queen?_ Came Belgabad's diffident voice. A small smile adorned Arya's face as she nodded to the white Dragon. Belgabad shot a glance at his Rider who looked at him encouragingly, and said:

_Why did Ebrithil leave us with you?_

_Because, hatchling_, replied Firnen firmly as he shot towards the now visible edges of Du Weldenvarden, _the places he will visit from now are not suitable for the little ones. Or old ones, for that matter. You are far too young to see some things yet and Eragon would be devastated if something were to happen to you because of his own arrogance._

"Firnen is right", said Arya with a faint hint of apology in her tone. Varda was still a very young girl, and from what she saw looked upon Eragon as a mixture of teacher and father. It had been heartbreaking to see the sadness on her face as they parted at Tarnag, but it was essential.

"Eragon-elda will be busy dealing with certain important matters. He is an elf-friend of old, and has entrusted you and Belgabad to us Alfakyn to train. We know many things and the oldest among us still remember the beginnings. You will gain invaluable knowledge in Ellesmera just like Eragon once did", she said quietly. Varda nodded, and Arya could see a gleam of eagerness and curiosity the young Rider was trying to hide.

They were approaching Ceris rapidly and the majestic Beors were fading slowly. Arya however kept a discreet watch on Varda who seemed to be bursting with questions but trying to stop the torrent. She resisted the urge to smile as she was reminded of a young Eragon being the same way.

Finally the young Rider's patience seemed to run out, and she spoke: "Your Majesty, Can I ask a question?" Arya nodded, and Varda pointed at Du Weldenvarden and asked:

"Why do elves like trees so much?"

"It is to do with our very origin" replied Arya, pleased with the query. Not many knew the truth of Elves and their exodus to Alagaesia, even among elves knowledge of that subject was fading. "As you most likely know, we were not originally immortal. The bonding with the Dragons changed us and we were given gifts of grace and power…our affinity to nature has unknown origins, in truth. But we are definitely aware that it was greatly augmented by the bonding."

Varda seemed deep in thought, but this time Belgabad asked a question: _If that is so, then how were the elves before the bond with the Dragons?_

"An excellent question, young Dragon", praised Arya. Belgabad seemed to preen and Varda shot her dragon a small glare. Arya ignored the byplay and continued with her answer: "Only a few elves like Rhunon, Haindar and Gilderien-elda remember what it was to be mortal. But we were not like humans, this is for certain. We do know that we had a distinct identity as a separate and powerful race."

Varda seemed to be having a glaring contest with Belgabad, and Arya watched amused as the two hatchlings tried to intimidate the other. Varda shook her head fiercely, causing her long golden hair to ripple in the wind as she did so.

"You had best stop fighting for whatever reason", she advised them softly, and Varda looked up at her. "The two of you are the apprentices of one of the most celebrated Riders in our history, and will be held to the highest standards. Elves will come from all over our nation to meet with you, especially since Eragon himself did not stay overlong in Ellesmera. Do you know the Elven courtesies well?"

Varda nodded, her face taking on an innocently puzzled expression. "Ebrithil taught us. But Ebrithil also told me elves were a really silly people that tended to tie themselves up with the same customs that were supposed to help them. You do not seem to be so bad, Queen Arya."

Arya's face had gone rigid for an instant, and then shook her head. Unbidden, laughter bubbled up inside her at Eragon's childish opinions of her race and looked fondly at Varda.

"No, young one, I am not that bad. I do not believe overmuch in such elaborate ritual, but sometimes they tend to be useful. It would be best if you adhered to my words this time instead of your Ebrithil's. I am the Elven Queen, after all."

"Alright" murmured Varda softly and Arya took in the profile of the young Rider as she again began to converse with her white Dragon. If she had not seen Alanna before, Arya would perhaps mistake Varda for an elf-child. Her skin glowed with magic the same as any elven child, and her face was so ethereally lovely that Arya was certain that Eragon had made a mistake when he said Varda was human.

She had been truly touched that Eragon had chosen to have her train Varda when he was away, had been humbled by how much Eragon still seemed to trust her even after all these years.

"_Varda will be in great danger with me, Arya. I do not wish to part with her just now, but there is no choice. A field of war and conflict is no place for a young child. I can protect her from physical harm, but she will stop living her childhood if she sees the horrors of the battlefield" he stated regretfully. _

_He looked up at her calmly, and solemnly took her hand in his._

"_I would be grateful" he said, "if you could train her for the time being. There are many things I cannot teach her without being in Ellesmera. Things that are essential for the heritage of the Riders."_

_Arya had a doubtful look on her face as she regarded the Lead Rider carefully. "I will do it if you ask it of me, Eragon. But what do I know of the raising of young hatchlings and apprentice Riders?"_

"_Between Yaela and yourself, I think you can keep my young Rider occupied. Show her Tialdari hall's great library first…it will make her happier than you could imagine" said Eragon, looking quite unhappy at the fact that he would not be there to do such a thing._

"_I will train her well in your absence, Eragon", promised Arya as she looked him in the eyes. "It means much that you trust me with someone so precious to you."_

"_Of course I would trust in you" said Eragon as if to think otherwise would be a blasphemy. "You are someone who is precious to me too"._

_The faintest pink tinged her pale and smooth cheeks as she held Eragon's gaze, feeling comforted by his declaration. It was a beautiful thing to know that someone would stand by her come what may. She had very few friends like that, and most of them had drifted from her…carried away by the unmerciful tides of Elven politics. _

_Her fellow elves may be her people, but the Riders were indubitably her family. She answered Eragon in a tone that she hoped would convey the depth of her thanks for his unquestioning support and her regard for him._

"_You…you are precious to me as well, Eragon."_

The months that would follow from now would be particularly perilous, both for her and for Eragon. In truth she was concerned far more for Eragon rather than herself, for it was he who was going directly into a territory where cruel war would rage soon enough. She had been more than tempted to simply accompany Eragon and Laetri to Ristvak'baen and postpone the succession completely.

"Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Varda?" she asked, turning back to her temporary apprentice. Eragon had told her not to teach Varda the sword at any cost; he had emphasized that point thoroughly. Arya did not voice her disagreement as she knew it would be far too presumptuous.

"Is Rhunon-elda really old?"

"Yes" replied Arya. The sun had begun to set slowly, and the vast plain was awash with a reddish orange light. "She forged the swords of every Rider who ever existed, including the one of your master's namesake. She is one of the original elves who came from our homeland, Alalea."

"Alalea" whispered Varda, with a faraway expression. "Heslant the monk says in _Domia abr Wyrda_ that the elves came from Alalea because of their mistakes. He says that in Alalea exists beautiful and terrible things, that it is a realm beyond the comprehension of men."

_That is why Eragon told us that even he could not see the end to Varda's potential,_ came Firnen's voice to Arya. Arya only nodded as she considered Varda's words spoken with the fascination of accomplished historians…the young Rider's mind was subtle and complex, more than even those of certain hot-headed elves of forty that came to mind.

"One day, I will see Alalea too", asserted the young Rider with a distant and fascinated look upon her face. "Just like Ebrithil did!"

Waves of shock ran through Arya, and she kept herself from showing her extreme reaction by the breadth of a hair. Eragon had gone to _Alalea_? In thousands of years, the elves had been unable to find that mythical land no matter the detailed maps they possessed of its location.

They knew much about their ancient homeland still, but its location had been lost to them. Queen Tarmunora's expedition to find their homeland had been in vain, and she had returned empty handed to Alagaesia.

"Eragon…went to Alalea?" she asked Varda softly, not wanting to alarm her. Varda nodded, her wonder apparent as she spoke:

"Laetri-elda went as well", she said. Arya hid another eruption of pure shock and began to realize that she still knew very little about Eragon. Varda's eyes had clouded over, and Arya saw a tear fall down the young Rider's face.

_Young one, what troubles you so? _Came Firnen's comforting voice even as Belgabad nudged his Rider with his small white snout. Arya watched her carefully, laying her hand on top of Varda's small pale ones. The young Rider seemed to gather herself in a moment, though Arya could see hints of emotion in her face.

She needed more answers, and would contact Eragon as soon as was feasible. Or perhaps Yaela would consent to explain to her once more.

But Ceris was in their sight, and Firnen swooped low to make a landing in the elven settlement. Arya squeezed Varda's hands reassuringly, projecting a sense of calm and comfort to the Rider. "Young one, I am sure you will. But for now we are near Ceris. You do remember the words of the greeting, do you not?"

"_Atra esterni ono thelduin, Arya Drottning"_ said Varda in a clear voice, touching two fingers to her lips. Arya smiled in acknowledgement, and looked towards Ceris and Du Weldenvarden. Her time as Queen was coming to an end and she would step away from the throne by performing one last service for her people; she would ensure that a worthy monarch succeeded her, thereby freeing her completely of royal obligations.

….

Eragon felt a hand gently shaking his shoulder, and threw off the trance immediately. As his eyes shot open he looked down to see himself holding Laetri by her waist, her back flush against his chest.

"Eragon, we are here" said Laetri quietly, shifting slightly in his embrace. Eragon disengaged slowly as he set his eyes upon the familiar landscape beneath him. He had last seen these endless and vast plains when he, Saphira and Brom had set out on the hunt for the Ra'zac.

A smile flickered on his face as he realized that it was here that he actually first realized the vastness of Alagaesia. Laetri turned in her saddle and addressed him: "You had best return to Saphira's saddle, Eragon. Your cousin seems ready to drop from the saddle in his sleep."

Eragon shot her an affectionate look and disappeared with a flash of indigo light, only to appear behind Roran. The tower of Ristvak'baen was in sight and it was close enough for him to keep an eye on his home village. The Dragons dived sharply and gracefully, and Roran shook himself awake at the unexpected change in altitude.

"What the-" exclaimed Roran as Saphira dived so sharply that she was almost perpendicular to the ground. Eragon was all too used to her antics and remained calm even without the security of a saddle. His sense of balance was fine enough to adjust to even the most chaotic of surfaces, and he saw even Laetri doing the same. Sahloknir was as bad as Saphira when it came to flying, but Eragon was thankful in a way that their tendencies of doing near-death stunts had subsided considerably.

"Saphira, you will kill me!" roared Roran in fright and Saphira's delighted laughter sounded in their minds, joined by Sahloknir's deep merriment. The ground seemed to rush at them dangerously, and at the last moment the two dragons seemed to right themselves and landed on the ground with a graceful thud.

Eragon and Laetri glanced for a moment at a green and sick-looking Roran, and simultaneously dismounted from their dragons, falling to the ground like a pair of white flowers drifting in the air. Roran looked at him with frustration and began his tedious downward climb from Saphira's saddle, causing the massive Sapphire dragon to chuckle involuntarily as he stepped on sensitive spots.

_Hurry up, that tickles, _growled Saphira to Roran. "You are at least seven times bigger than you were before, you overgrown dragon!" complained Roran as he descended huffing and puffing. "I would rather climb a small mountain than you!"

_**Fine. If you find a mountain that is as beautiful and graceful in flight as me, please tell me**_, said Saphira with some asperity. Sahloknir emanated a deep chuckling sound at his counterpart's quip, joined by his Rider and Eragon.

They had landed upon the unreachable peak of Utgard, and Eragon could feel the ancient history of the riders seeped into the very stones of the place. From their vantage point, he could see the plain in all directions for what was a hundred miles probably.

"This place is perfect, Eragon-elda" said Laetri appreciatively. "Carvahall and Therinsford are in perfect sight and as are the major portions of the great plain. I had forgotten how very suitable this place was as an outpost of the Riders."

Roran was staring nostalgically at Carvahall, wiping his eyes discreetly. From what Eragon had heard he had not seen the village for eighty years now, not since he left the village to his sons and daughter. He himself had not seen it since leaving when he was but a clueless sixteen-year old boy who called himself a Rider.

"This way, Eragon-elda and Roran" said Laetri, indicating the steps that took them to the very summit of the legendary peak. "These stairs lead to the tower of Edoc'sil…or perhaps Ristvak'baen as it has been aptly named after the fall", she said sadly.

Tearing his eyes from the unrecognizable Carvahall, which more resembled a city than the rustic village he had left a hundred and twenty years before, he followed Laetri to the stairs that stretched up the mountain and beyond sight only ending at the tower.

_Please meet us up there, _requested Eragon and the Dragon gladly took to flight. The weather was pleasantly cold at this height and a heavy mist obscured the tower from the view of those on the plains, heightening the sense of mystique associated with the ancient outpost.

Roran had joined him and Laetri as they climbed swiftly towards the tower, Laetri looking lost in the memories of a distant and painful past. Eragon knew what was troubling her, but did not voice it out loud; This place was as much a part of her story as it was a part of the story of the Riders.

"These steps", said Roran suddenly. "They are not crafted through normal means, are they? They seem to be made of a crystal I have not seen in Alagaesia in all my travels", he said with wonder. Laetri nodded solemnly, seeming to come back to the present.

"True indeed. These stairs were crafted by Silvari the enchantress" she said, and her eyes seemed to have a shadow to them as she spoke. "Long ago when she was a just a young apprentice Rider brimming with magic and a talent unbelievable, eager to prove herself to her master."

Roran nodded with surprised eyes as Laetri closed her eyes for a moment and continued climbing. She seemed to draw involuntarily close to Eragon, and their hands seemed to find each other quite naturally.

Roran almost missed a step as he saw Eragon interact with Laetri, speaking to her in a low voice. They seemed to understand each other on a most fundamental level, something he had experienced once in his life. And then it hit him.

Eragon and Laetri resembled himself and his late wife, so much so that he could almost see images of himself and Katrina in them. Despite the pure beauty and dignity of Laetri and the majesty and wisdom of Eragon, he could see the depth of their bond. He may not be a mind-reader, but their actions were so filled with affection and understanding that not even a blind man would miss them. The realization brought a rush of pure pain to his heart as he remembered just what he had lost.

Never again would he see Katrina's lovely smile again, and the fact stabbed his heart like a thousand knives. He would burn Alagaesia and use his soul for tinder if only it meant that he could see her smile again. As his steps faltered with his blackening mood, he felt a mind make contact with his…a mind so vast that it was comparable even to the Menoa tree's consciousness in its immensity.

He could hear hundreds of whispers in its endless depths and dimensions, and started as Eragon's profound voice echoed through his very soul: _You will see her again, along with everyone we have ever lost in this life. Do not despair, Roran. We have much left to do in this world before we join with the void. Your daughter is lost to the darkness, and our village is about to be set upon by enemies. We are the ones who will turn the tide of fate once more: Me, Laetri, you, and Arya and our Dragons. You are a legend just like me, and legends are more than just flesh._

_We are ideals that never fade from conscious memory._

Compassion and hope flowed from Eragon's mind into his, and his words ignited a hope in his heart that made him feel young once more. As he stood straight and proud like he had done as a commander of the Varden, he felt another mind joining with his. Laetri's mind was ancient and subtle like those of the dragons, running through it were veins of suffering, hope and compassion.

_I can feel your suffering_, she whispered soothingly in his mind. _Most minds are open to me, and the air is heavy with loss. You will find understanding and love again, as great as the one you shared with Katrina long ago. As deep as the bond I and Eragon-elda share; Do not lose hope, Roran Stronghammer._

As the despair was burnt away from him, a new mind entered their astral conference. This time, Roran knew it to be a Dragon. It was ancient and experienced beyond belief and held the authority and power of the greatest of leaders.

_Eragon, what your nest-mate feels is not his own sorrow, not is still weeping for the death of my Rider Vrael. The mountain is saturated with Vrael's death presence. As the leader, it is your responsibility to return it to its former light and glory._

Roran saw Eragon glance once at Laetri, pausing in their climb. Something seemed to pass between them and their grip around each other's hand tightened ever so slightly.

_As you wish, Umaroth-elda. _

A wind seemed to gather up around the two Riders, whipping their long silver hair into disarray.

_**Brace yourself, Roran. My Rider and Laetri are cleansing the grief from this place**_**, **came Saphira's warning voice even as Eragon and Laetri raised their free hands towards the cloudy sky, looking deep into each other's eyes. Then they began to sing, and he found tears coming to his eyes at the song.

Lyric strains of the ancient language permeated the mournful summit of Utgard Mountain, and Roran found himself closing his eyes in an attempt to remember as much as he could of the song. It felt like hope itself distilled into something he could grasp, and he heard reverently as Eragon and Laetri sang together of renewal and light, of the destruction of darkness and of new brightness.

Saphira and Sahloknir began to hum in concordance with the song, and the air vibrated slightly at their powerful voices. The clouds above the towering mountain churned for a moment and opened up, letting a huge column of crystal clear light bathe the entirety of Utgard.

Roran fell to his knees as he observed _life_ itself return to the desolate mountain. Withered trees began to grow, and a cover of the most beautiful green moss seemed to cover the entire mountain. Everywhere he saw, he found entire forests being born, their trees yielding golden leaves and standing tall. And they were all bathed in Eragon's healing light…Roran noticed Eragon's sword glinting in its sheath, and the glyph that declared it to be _Brisingr_ morph into something else for a second. His hands shook as he read the changed glyph with a single glance:

_Islingr_.

As Eragon turned Ristvak'baen and the mountain it stood upon into a paradise unlike even Du Weldenvarden, Roran knelt dumbfounded. The light turned every living thing it touched into one of striking beauty, and Roran felt fortunate to be here for this event. As the last of the trees bloomed into maturity and the Mountain covered completely by soothing green meadows, he was convinced: Something profound had happened here today, a beginning of a new epoch in Alagaesia.

The song of magic and power stopped, and Roran's eyes grew alarmed as Laetri swayed on the spot for a moment and steadied herself. Eragon did not even hesitate as he gathered the gloriously beautiful elf in his arms, holding her securely to him.

_The spell we cast was something beyond ordinary magic. She is a trifle tired_, his voice resonated in all their minds. Laetri lay content in his arms as they all surveyed the mountain that stretched down below them to thousands of feet…it had become a place of heaven itself. Everywhere they saw, it was floored with velvety green meadows and shone with a canopy of golden-leaved trees.

Its previous gloom was long gone, and Roran felt a new purpose as he joined Eragon rapidly, along with a deep and resonating pride in his cousin. Eragon had truly become the person he was meant to be, and he could feel the crushing pride of Saphira and Sahloknir bombard them all.

Against the awe-inspiring sight of the blue sky and the high peak of Utgard, Roran could fully appreciate the true majesty and power Eragon embodied. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that Eragon would turn into…into this mythical Rider. Laetri seemed to think the same as she looked at the Lead Rider with bright blue eyes full of pride and adoration.

"We sung that spell beautifully, Eragon. You have learnt well…" she said in her melodious voice. Eragon only shifted her in his arms, holding her more securely than ever. Umaroth's joyful voice roared through their consciousnesses like a storm:

_The blessing of Telperion?...Eragon, Laetri, you have done well. I will still dream of Vrael's presence_, said Umaroth and the ancient sorrow seemed to consume them for a second, _but I must let go of him. The dead are to have the peace they did not get in life. I am proud of you, Eragon. You have come far indeed._

Hundreds of voices seemed to echo Umaroth the White's sentiments as Eragon made to climb the final steps to the tower of Vrael, Laetri contently resting her head on his chest as she lay in his arms. Roran knew them to be the voices of Eldunari, and their benedictions washed over him.

…..

"Soldiers!" came Palencar's resounding voice as he stood upon his battlements, looking imperially at the ranks upon ranks of steel-armored men who had assembled outside the walls of Illirea. The city shook as the soldiers brought their lances down simultaneously with an earth-shaking thud.

Many of the citizens had gathered behind the open gates and upon the vast battlements as their King commanded the fifth detachment of the royal army of Illirea. Palencar too was armored in the purest of silver armor, seeming to shine in the light of the setting sun.

"It has been eighty years since the battle of Ithro-Zhada, where we first commanded the armies…and a hundred years since the fall of Galbatorix. But now our kingdom is threatened once more" he said in a dark voice, and such was the passion in his voice that the six thousand soldiers of the detachment held their swords in fury.

"Urgals" he spat, and most of the citizens spat with him. From his unassuming position behind the king, Nuada saw the royalty and inspiration the monarch engendered. Eragon-elda lead the riders so admirably by showing them the principles of sacrifice and knowledge.

But Palencar's words lit a fire in these men's hearts…he was closely reminded of how Brom had ignited the spark of revolution in the original Varden, of how entire legions flocked to his passionate call.

"You are our nation's soldiers. Great was the valour of your forebears in the battles before, and great will be your valour in the coming battles. You will be sent to the mouth of the Woadark river, and from there you are to Garrison around the city of Teirm."

A single man in heavy armor stepped forth from the ranks of the soldiers, and looked at the king. "Permission to speak, Majesty?" he asked firmly, and Palencar inclined his head in the soldier's direction.

"Speak, general Hadvor."

"Majesty, we have no commander. Are we to simply lead ourselves to this battle?" questioned the general completely seriously. A fierce smile lit Palencar's face as he looked to the orange skies, announcing in a loud voice.

"I will not throw away my soldiers so easily, General!" he proclaimed, and a faint _thuds_ began to make itself known to the gathered army and populace. "The most ancient of all peacekeepers have come forth at this time, fortunately for all of us. After one hundred years of absence from their home, they have returned once more to keep our hard-won peace. And_ they" _he raised his hand to point at a huge brown Dragon descending towards the space between the walls and the army. "They will not let foul beasts spurn our peace. General Hadvor!" he said loudly, watching carefully as his people seemed to be stunned into silence.

Hadvor was a veteran of the battle of the Dark tunnels, which was fought entirely in the darkness of abandoned dwarven underground. But his lined face was set in an expression of pure amazement as the majestic dragon landed forcefully, sending a small storm of dust into the ranks of the soldiers. As the dust cleared, an elf woman in armor jumped from the saddle of the dragon directly and fell to the ground on light feet.

Whispers began to float through the massed citizenry of Illirea as they well and truly saw a Rider for the first time in a century. Palencar was smiling grimly as Ragnar roared in his deep voice, shooting a huge column of fire into the sky.

The soldiers looked stunned, and Palencar found he was impressed that none of them had made a hostile move without his command. A sense of pride overtook him as he appreciated their iron discipline, as they stood firm even in the face of a Rider.

"This is your commander, General Hadvor. This is Leya Shur'tugal" he said, and glanced once at the hooded Nuada, who nodded. "This is Leya Shur'tugal, one of the apprentices of Eragon Kingslayer".

It never failed to amaze Palencar just how much Eragon was idolized by the public, even after so many a year. After a moment of complete silence, whispers began to escalate among the populace like a bumble of a hive of bees. Then suddenly a voice in the crowd shouted:

"ERAGON!"

Nuada smiled as the Illirea was shaken by the collective shouts of its fifteen thousand citizens. As one, they began to roar: "ERAGON! ERAGON!...".

"My master is not here, beloved Alagaesians" cut in Leya's clear voice as she raised her hand, amplifying her voice with magic. Palencar grinned, admiring how she played with words so cleverly. Indeed Eragon was not here in Illirea, but most of them would take it to mean that he was not in Alagaesia.

"He is not here, but he will always watch over us and come to our aid when we are fallen. He has sent us to fulfil our ancient duty. We will let no being break Alagaesia's sacred peace, this we swear by all Riders who ever existed!" her voice rang out with melody and power through the streets of Illirea as Palencar nodded appreciatively. Mad cheers filled the city and he could see even his soldiers were heartened by the prospect of being commanded by a Rider.

They grew silent after a time, when Palencar solemnly lifted his hand for their attention. He turned to Leya, who with her Dragon watched him calmly.

"Leya Shur'tugal" said Palencar in voice that thrummed with royalty. "I, Palencar, High King of the Kingdom of Illirea hereby charge you to guard the western reaches of our Kingdom from the marauding beasts who call themselves Urgals. Do you, as a Rider of Alagaesia, accept my request?"

Leya stood straight and proud, seeming to exude authority as she unsheathed her gleaming sword with a steely ring. "I accept, majesty. No Urgal will breach the western cities under our watch!"

Palencar thought Hadvor would create problems at this sudden relegation of command, but was pleasantly surprised as the General too drew his sword and declared the same in a ringing voice. He watched as silence overtook the plains for a single second, and then it happened.

Six thousand swords were drawn with a deafening ring that chilled the bones and awed every observer on that fateful day. On the twilight-lit plains of Illirea under the orders of their king, the first detachment of soldiers marched towards the spine of the world and Teirm with the Rider Leya.

…..

As the servants poured him and the remaining Riders tea, Palencar allowed himself to descend from the high he had attained as he had sent forth the division to Teirm. That part of the army had been mobilized very quickly, much more so than he had expected.

It was one piece of good advice the generals had given him: To let the people get used to the concept of war once again, he had to make a spectacle of it and as soon as possible. With Nuada's assent, he had openly declared the involvement of the Riders and had given Leya the right to command the fifth detachment of the army formally.

The room was somber as Palencar looked at Barristan and Nuada. "What did you think?"

"It was well done, your Majesty. It is always best to instill a sense of morale in the minds of the people before any war. I think you are naturally gifted in that regard…truth be told, I felt even my morale rising at your speech" said Nuada with a genuine smile. Palencar grinned…that was what he wanted to hear. He had inherited both his mother's charisma and his father's inhuman determination.

He sipped his tea, and let the silence take them once more. Ildarien was with his own men…the Rider had taken a great liking to the tough and no-nonsense nighthawks, all of them fascinated with magic the same way he was accused of being.

Palencar was later told by him that the Riders on Aiedail preferred the simple frankness of humanity to the convoluted games of the elves. It was a change Palencar could definitely live with.

"The Urgals will not take the bait" said Barristan suddenly. "Leya's division will at most attract a token army from the spine, your majesty. The brunt of their attack will be focused on focused eastwards, I think."

"Aye, that is a good point Barristan" concurred the King amiably. "But do not forget that the port cities are important as well. If they can take Narda or Teirm, they can wage war by sea as well. We cannot leave that possibility unattended. If everything goes well it might be possible to catch them in a vice-formation."

"Eragon-elda will hold Carvahall, Leya will guard Teirm and the coast…and the main army shall launch the real offensive through the entire breadth of the Spine. Has it yet been decided if the main assault is focused or distributed?" questioned Nuada.

"It has been decided" said Palencar grimly, "that we will strike through three methods. Our forces shall split into three bodies, but at least two will remain close enough to aid each other in the time of need. I will personally lead the first division and set up camp near the village of Flam" he said, pointing to the diamond shaped dot near the spine range.

"You, Nuada, have the option of leading the attack via the secret pass at Daret, or circle into the spine through Carvahall" offered the King. Nuada seemed to consider for a moment, and replied.

"I will attack through the Daret pass. It is better to have the Riders distributed evenly through the entire force, Majesty. Carvahall will not really need any more reinforcement" said Nuada. But Barristan's face had settled into a thinking expression, and the Rider pointed to Feinster.

"Instead" said the young Rider quickly, his brown eyes glowing with enthusiasm. "We can split the original Carvahall army into parts, and send a good number of men to Feinster and then into sea. In case the Urgals make it into the sea, we must be ready to counter them."

"Excellent" murmured Palencar, as he stared at the map. "It is also a trick that will provide a mobile reserve army. Well done, Barristan" he congratulated quietly. Barristan smirked, his eyes lighting up at the praise. Nuada shot him a congratulatory look, and turned to Palencar.

"Ildarien and his assassins are ready, Your Majesty. They will be an extremely important component of this war", stated Nuada quietly. "It will be necessary to ensure that their departure will be in the utmost secrecy. And, Eragon-elda will most likely have arrived at Utgard."

Palencar still worried about the Carvahall sector. "I cannot help but worry, Nuada. I am afraid Carvahall will still take the brunt of the Urgal attack. My Generals are once again calling me insane for not routing too much of the army there, and I fear discord in my command structure."

"That will fade in time" assured Nuada gently. "It is as Ildarien said: Eragon-elda is unconquerable. It would take quite a bit more than an Urgal army to challenge the Leader of our Order. Have faith, your majesty; We must make our thrust by having faith in Eragon-elda's capacities."

"What if the Urgal Riders make an appearance?" questioned Palencar intently. Nuada sighed, and replied firmly:

"Majesty, at worst any of the four of us can at least match them. There is no way they can stand against the Kingslayer either…it does not matter how strong they think they are. Against him they will taste nothing but defeat" he said, but continued as Palencar retained his doubtful look.

"Leave Riders to Riders, your majesty. As long as we are here we will deal with our problems. You have Urgals to deal with, alongside several other things." he intoned reassuringly.

At this Palencar nodded. Silence fell as the three sipped their beverages, thinking deeply about the situation. The war was well underway and they had taken the first steps towards their plan. Palencar had taken several gambles in his battles, but this one seemed like one of the most insane. No matter how much the Riders reassured him that Eragon could hold Carvahall, he was not reassured. Perhaps he would issue a few secret orders to Ildarien's soldiers to defend Carvahall with their lives if Eragon could not do so.

His mind told him to trust the Riders' word, but his experience told him to take precautions anyways. It was only prudent to seal away all possibilities of defeat…that was what Jormundur had taught him, and that was the philosophy by which he fought his wars.

**A/N:**

**The imagery of this chapter was inspired by the compositions of Hans Zimmer, most of which never fail to bring tears to my eyes. Music is a great aid to inspired writing, I feel. It helps in ways no amount of academic speculation can, for it is helps you put soul in your imagination.**

**Thank you again for reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Greetings, Readers! Thanks as always for your reviews and encouragement. Thank you also for giving my story a chance. Please understand that I am updating as fast as I can, but also understand that I will not post a chapter till I feel it is ready for posting. **

**You readers are far too important for me to take for granted. So I sincerely request you to bear with the time between updates. I will never sink so low as to withhold chapters for reviews, as a reviewer has insinuated. **

**Any latency is because I am very busy with life in general, or because I am updating my other fics as well. But I must admit that this fic is my first love, so I always treat it with great care.**

**Thanks for reading, again.**

**Sincerely,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 15

The forest of the Elves was bathed in a tranquil sunlight, bearing witness to the endless happenings beneath its eaves since times long forgotten. The way to Ellesmera rippled slightly, and in response appeared a tall and noble figure garbed in flowing robes of pure white.

The trees bent in all directions as air was displaced by a small explosion that occurred in the clearing, disturbing the ethereal silence of the forests of Ellesmera. As the air cleared gently, a huge green Dragon became visible as did a comparatively tiny white one sitting demurely upon his larger counterpart. Standing beside the two Dragons was a female elf, a raven haired beauty considered lovely even among elves.

"Gilderien-elda, wisest of us all", greeted Arya, inclining her head respectfully to the ancient guardian of her city. Gilderien the wise merely smiled as his form seemed to radiate a white fire of its own, and his bright eyes surveyed them slowly. Varda and Belgabad were staring at the mythical elf with scarce concealed amazement.

"Arya Drottning, greetings.", said Gilderien in a voice that seemed to seep into the very trees. "I have sensed great unrest, both in the land and in this city of ours. An unnamed shadow walks the land, something that sits at the edge of my memory…but something I cannot quite remember. The Alfakyn must not fail this land, like we did our homeland. We must be kept strong".

Arya's face showed surprise and sadness at Gilderien's warning. "Gilderien-elda, I intend to forsake the throne and join the Riders, my duty here is over. But your warning shall not be forgotten…I shall make sure that my successor is worthy and strong."

Gilderien smiled, and the forest seemed to light up in response. "Every Elf is worthy and strong, Arya Drottning. Their vision is clouded at times and their minds are often agitated despite their cold demeanours, but they adhere still to great ideals. This must not change. The trials that I foresee will not strike at our bodies and minds…it will test our hearts and convictions"

The leaves rustled as an entourage of Elven lords approached to greet their Queen. Arya could see surprise flicker through their faces as they saw Gilderien himself speaking to the Queen. It was not an event that happened often…Gilderien had only spoken to Oromis so freely and even then away from prying eyes.

"Gilderien-elda, your Majesty" greeted Dathedr respectfully, and bowed gracefully to them with his three companions. Gilderien acknowledged him with a small nod as did Arya.

"Dathedr-vodhr. You heard my words, I presume?"

"I did, as did we all. This unrest causes me great disquiet as well, Gilderien-elda. The killing of my friend's mate and child" he laid a hand on Fiolr's shoulder, calming him considerably. "It has pulled forth our warlike nature a mere hundred years after the last great battle. I am afraid a seed of chaos and indecision has been sown amongst the Alfakyn."

"Eragon Shur'tugal has come forth to contain this darkness, Dathedr-vor. We are not without hope" said Arya in her melodious voice. Dathedr acknowledged that fact, but Fiolr's discontent was obvious to them all. Before he could speak Gilderien said:

"Fiolr-vodhr. You must let go of the pain that is clouding your sight. For three millennia have I stood guard over Ellesmera, hundreds of tragedies have I witnessed. Heed my words, and stand with the Queen. Our people must not fail now."

"I…will try, Gilderien-elda", said Fiolr in a low voice as his expression seemed to calm. Gilderien nodded regally and his eyes alighted upon an awestruck Varda. He gazed at her for several seconds, as did the other Elven lords though their expressions were inquisitive. Arya stepped forth with a hand on the young Rider's shoulder.

"This is Varda and her Dragon Belgabad, apprentices of Eragon Kingslayer" she said, and Varda touched her lips to speak the elven greeting. "She has been entrusted to our care as her master is busy dealing with the Urgal situation in the Illirean Kingdom."

"Welcome to Ellesmera, Varda Shur'tugal and Belgabad" said an elf-lord next to Dathedr, his long hair a curious shade of grey. "I am Berentain of the house of Haldthir. May peace live in your heart."

His greeting was echoed by all the present elf-lords, they were staring at the pure white scales of Belgabad with happiness. Belgabad preened self-importantly causing Varda to shoot him a frustrated look. The elves smiled at this interaction, as did Gilderien. With a knowing look in his eye, the venerable guardian spoke to Varda:

"I see that you are still very young, despite the maturity of your mind. Young ones...you will find that our paths shall cross once again in the future. I bid you welcome to our realm, and tell you this: you are more elven than you can imagine" Gilderien said enigmatically. "I wish you good fortune in all your duties. I must depart to mine"

A flickering of the light later, Gilderien had vanished. Varda seemed to be contemplating his words with great concentration, causing Arya to smile.

_The young dragon is overeager, Arya. I will meet you at the Crags of Tel'naeir as the sun sets. You can take the Rider with you…I know she is itching to meet Rhunon and Haindar._

_I think she will enjoy Ellesmera more than Eragon ever did_, she thought fondly as she glanced at the waiting Elven lords. "Let us walk" she said to them and the Lords flanked her and Varda on both sides, watching as Belgabad and Firnen took off into the air silently.

Fiolr spoke first, regret weighing his voice as he said: "My queen, I sincerely apologize for my lack of control during our conference in Tarnag. I have done my house a great disservice along with the nation. I can only plead misery and pain."

As the Lords Dathedr and Berentain looked on approvingly, Arya nodded. "Your apology is accepted, Lord Fiolr. But it is not me you have threatened and berated unnecessarily. To absolve yourself of the unfounded harshness, you must direct this apology to Eragon-elda."

Fiolr's face flickered with emotion, and Arya could sense Varda's tension. She could not decipher why Fiolr seemed so condescending with Eragon…but she did know the ways of her people. Perhaps the elf-lord's opinion was cemented the moment Eragon requested to wield Tamerlein, which was so dear to Fiolr's house. Their walk was slow but easily at a pace that could be called a leisurely run for humans. But Varda kept up quite easily with their pace and caused surprise among the Lords.

"As you wish, Majesty", assented Fiolr, and they walked in silence through the otherworldly trees towards Ellesmera. Varda was looking around the forest with amazement, and Arya smiled at her reactions. She had not really trained anyone else for her duties left her little time for such thing.

"Even Ebrithil's trees are not so…" trailed off Varda silently, as she deviated from the path to lay a hand on a mighty oak that towered high into the canopy. Lord Berentain got an interested gleam in his eye as he questioned Varda:

"Is Aiedail full of trees like ours?"

"Yes", said Varda turning back to Berentain and looking at the interest of all the Lords. "In the beginning, Ebrithil and the Nine sung for seven days and nights to create a forest all around Aiedail. The trees here feel similar to those back there".

"That is understandable" agreed Fiolr, looking at Varda with an evaluating expression. "We Alfakyn carry the essence of our forest wherever we go. Be it a thousand years or centuries that essence will not fade from our being or magic."

The path had gradually given way to a clearing and from there the magnificent and ethereal city of Ellesmera became visible. Varda closed her eyes and opened them, trying to make sure that what she saw really existed. The Lords and Queen were looking at the young Rider's reaction with amused eyes. The first sight of the Elven capital often had such an effect on the beholder.

"It feels…timeless", said Varda with closed eyes and contemplating expression. There was no evidence of childish glee or wonder upon her face as she described Ellesmera. Dathedr looked at the child with open amazement, and then back at Arya.

"I did not realize that seven year old Riders were able to quest with their minds. In the days of antiquity, these arts took even elven Riders at least three years to use. Queen Arya, I believe Eragon-elda has chosen well", he praised and Varda's face was suffused with a blush. Arya continued forward at a stately pace and her people began to reveal themselves and they all bowed to their queen as they went about their businesses.

"I really like elves" said Varda in a certain voice, causing the Alfakyn to look at her with pure wonder and amazement. Arya sighed as the congregation grew in their forest as the Elves communicated by mind to gather in greater number. Soft murmurs ran through the gathering crows as they pointed excitedly at Varda, and one thing was clearly audible to them.

"_Elf-child"_, they said repeatedly and the timeless forests seemed to be alive with the joy of its nurturers. Arya shook her head slightly not wanting to break the misplaced joy of her people…it was far too easy to mistake Varda for an elven child. The gathering grew larger, and simultaneously Firnen landed with a great gust of wind.

Belgabad flew from Firnen's back and landed with a small thud beside Varda. The jubilation of the Elven kind grew considerably as they saw the fact that Varda was in fact a Rider, and they began to sing and dance as they beheld the pure white Dragon. Dathedr and Berentain looked around at the celebrating elves with a sad expression, and Fiolr with a pain that was so heartbreaking that Arya felt compassion rearing in her.

_I am sorry, Arya_ commiserated Firnen through their bond. _Your people's jubilation is for naught. Perhaps not entirely, for Varda is a Rider. _

Arya raised her hand, and exclaimed: "My people!"

The elves ceased their celebration and focused their attention on their queen. Arya sighed and continued, "My people. The young Rider here is Eragon Shur'tugal's apprentice and is human to my knowledge. I am sorry" she whispered apologetically.

This was how much the Elven race had been affected by the loss of Fiolr's mate and child. Children were so precious in their culture…they could not help but see hope where they wished it would be present. A single tear slid down Arya's face as the elves turned away in misery, dispersing silently and glancing wistfully at Varda.

"Did I do something wrong?" asked Varda in a horrified voice, for the sudden and deep misery in the wondrous tree city had struck her deep. The city was as silent as before, its trees whispering and reflecting the mourning of its denizens.

Belgabad growled at Arya, his eyes demanding answers from the queen. A mighty beat of wings captured their attention and a massive brown Dragon descended rapidly through the skies and alighted smoothly. Firnen let out a greeting roar and was greeted back in kind by the Dragon Fundor. Yaela dismounted easily from her Dragon and turned to face the arriving party. Her face ran through shock, disbelief and finally joy as she saw Varda.

"Yaela!" exclaimed Varda as she ran up to hug the beautiful Rider. Yaela acknowledged the Queen and Lords with a nod even as she gathered up Varda's small form in her arms. The Elves watched with surprised and disapproving eyes at this rather human-like display of emotions.

"We felt it" said Yaela as she soothingly stroked Varda's hair. "We rushed here the moment the forest grew darker than ever with mourning". Arya looked sadly at Varda who had buried her head in Yaela's shoulders. This was not the encounter she had wanted for Varda to have with her people.

"They thought her to be an elven child" said Dathedr, glancing around at the few elves who had stopped to look at the gathering of Riders and nobility. "The pain of losing Damitha and the child is still too fresh in our minds, and we saw what we wished to see", he said softly.

_It is not your fault little one,_ said Fundor, lowering his head to meet Varda's gaze. The young Rider looked at them all with tearful eyes and Yaela squeezed her hand gently. Firnen's voice echoed in their minds:

_This was unexpected, and may have unintended consequences for everyone concerned. It might be best if we vacated Tialdari hall for the moment and went to the Crags of Tel'naeir. For now, Varda will only be an image of what has been lost to the elvenkind._

"You speak the truth, Skulblaka" agreed Lord Berentain. "Many words and years will it take for us to come out of mourning and this beautiful and elf-like child will only heighten our loss at this juncture. I regret this greatly for no Rider should enter our city with a heavy heart."

Yaela and Arya exchanged glances, and nodded as one. Dathedr addressed Varda and Belgabad directly.

"Shur'tugal, despite the unnatural reception you have received here…you will be welcome in my house. The Alfakyn will never forget the great deed of your master, and his Riders will also be held in the highest esteem" he said strongly. Berentain concurred as well.

"My house also gladly welcomes you, Varda and Belgabad. My kin are in deep mourning and I ask that you do not judge us by our actions today", he requested sincerely. Varda nodded uncertainly.

"I thank you for your kindness, Elf lords" she said softly. The Dragons and Riders remained as Dathedr and Berentain departed together, talking softly to each other. Yaela ran up Fundor's side with Varda and mounted him easily as did Arya. Belgabad was seated now with Fundor and Yaela, looking mournfully at his Rider.

"The Crags of Tel'naeir?" asked Arya, looking at her fellow Rider. It would be a perfect place to train Varda and her Dragon, and fitting as well. Eragon was trained there a hundred and twenty years ago and it seemed natural that his apprentice must train there as well.

"Indeed", replied Yaela as Fundor took off with a mighty roar. The elves watched with sombre expressions as the three Riders drifted off towards the erstwhile quarters of Osthato Chetowa. Alagaesia was churning unpredictably in the dark, and even the most noble and beautiful race in it felt the lament it brought. It would be long before the tragedy at Tarnag would be forgotten.

Du Weldenvarden resumed its sepulchral silence, ever reflecting the joys and sorrows of its makers.

…..

They stood upon the very summit of Ristvak'baen watching the heavenly sunrise filter through the clouds and light up the plains slowly. Saphira and Sahloknir were flying with a visible joy as the morning light reflected off their shining scales.

Eragon could feel echoes of the Riders' presence in the tower stretching back to the very beginnings. Vrael's sadness would linger in some form despite the cleansing…but it almost felt like a legacy now. The tower reached high into the heavens…and was hewn out of the very peak itself. Utgard had lost its dark gloom, and seemed to be filled with a gentle light that pervaded the entire mountain, reflecting off the bright snows that blanketed it. A forest of shining golden leaves pervaded the entire mountain and its peak, raised forth by their song.

_This place will be a haven for us in the dark times to come_, came Saphira's voice to their minds. _The armies of Urgals are marching already, and I can feel their warlike malice directed against Carvahall. Our involvement is inevitable I am afraid, Eragon._

He turned to the west to see Carvahall spread out along the Anora River, and found himself contrasting it with the old Village he had grown in. His eyes turned a glimmering sapphire as he joined his vision to Saphira's, observing the village in its everyday life. He saw Laetri looking in the same direction with shimmering golden eyes as she joined her vision to Sahloknir's, and involuntarily they sought each other's hands.

_Are you ready, Eragon-elda?_ came Laetri's melodious voice as they joined minds completely. Eragon closed his eyes, and squeezed her hand gently in assurance. Their minds joined together like the confluence of two rivers, and then were joined by the ancient minds of their Dragons.

_I am ready Laetri Drottningu_, said Eragon serenely as the two Riders gathered their combined mindforce for several moments. _Do not stay overlong in my mind. It is dangerous for any except Dragons._

Their mindforce kept on building and Eragon and Laetri seemed to glow with a white sheen. Saphira and Sahloknir began circling around the tower slowly as their Riders prepared to cast their awareness across the entirety of the Kingdom.

"_Manin", _they said together quietly. The salubrious mountain of Utgard seemed to shimmer outward with the two Riders as the epicentre, and Eragon immersed himself slowly within the infinite life and flow of Alagaesia along with Laetri.

He had first felt this oneness as a young boy in Ellesmera under Oromis' tutelage, he reminisced nostalgically as his and Laetri's combined awareness spread in all directions steadily. Laetri's mind was as elven and otherworldly as ever, but he could hear the lyric tones of the ancient language flowing through her being.

Millions of lifeforms came and went from his attention they quested together throughout Alagaesia. Every man, woman, and child in every city of the Kingdom were in the field of their awareness as they drifted serenely and finely through the pool of infinite minds in search of darkness and disturbance.

_I can feel the land changed by Shur'tugal to the south-east, Eragon-elda, _said Laetri and he wordlessly directed his presence towards that direction. Six-thousand blazing life-forms became apparent to his mind, and he concentrated slightly.

_I have been identified. Their magicians are skilled_, observed Eragon as he increased his oneness with Laetri's mind. _This is the army that will garrison within the city of Teirm. Palencar has made his move._

He could feel anxiety and fear from the magicians who guarded the minds of the army, and felt their minds coalescing together in response to him. Eragon and Laetri silently quested for Leya's presence, ignoring the steady gathering of minds.

_Leya? _said Eragon, finding the mind of Leya and Ragnar a distance from their army. _Where are you situated presently?_

_Atra esterni ono thelduin, Eragon-elda, Laetri-elda_, said Leya with a tone of surprised respect. Ragnar acknowledged them with the same greeting, and Eragon felt the gathering of minds dissipate with evident relief as Leya disabused them of notions of him being a threat.

_I apologize for them, Eragon-elda. Your mind is beyond their understanding. We are within sight of Leona lake and we will strike due north in a matter of hours, _her voice said.

_Conceal yourself better, Leya. And do not send your consciousnesses towards the Urgals…the forest seems to be walled off by reasonably strong wards. We do not want to alarm them prematurely,_ warned Eragon. Laetri began searching to the east slowly towards Illirea and Gilead, stopping only until she encountered the wards of Du Weldenvarden.

_I must go, Eragon-elda_, said Leya apologetically. _The generals are asking for me._

_Go, Leya,_ said Eragon calmly and went back to his questing. For over several minutes, he searched Alagaesia at the speed of thought with Laetri. _I can feel no trace of Shade presence, Laetri. We have to assume the worst._

_I felt nothing either, Eragon-elda_, admitted Laetri and they simultaneously retracted their awareness back to their bodies. Eragon opened his eyes slowly and turned to Laetri. Their search had yielded far more questions than answers. They silently observed the timeless mountain of Utgard as they considered further action.

"Eragon-elda, I fear that the Shade is up to some new scheme. He moves in ways I cannot predict and is instigating unrest in Alagaesia unpredictably. Ismira was not visible to us either", said Laetri in a concerned tone.

Eragon sighed. "There are two conclusions I can draw, Laetri, the likelier of them being that they are within the Spine and are behind those wards. I do not think Ismira is skilled enough to throw off my mind", he concluded. Laetri remained quiet for a few moments as they both returned to their thoughts.

The morning sunlight broke the cover of clouds, revealing to them the horizon in a spectacular display of natural beauty. Laetri gasped softly as she saw the sky alight at such proximity and laid her head on Eragon's shoulder. Eragon instinctively enfolded her to him with his right arm as they took in the beautiful sight together.

"Even in Aiedail I have not seen such beauty often", said Laetri reverently as she saw from the summit of Ristvak'baen the entire landscape being lit by the sun. "I must make a Fairth of this moment."

"I agree", said Eragon softly. He shared this trait with the elves very much, this fascination with the delights of nature. Then he smiled as he set eyes upon Laetri's silver tresses that were shining in the light of the morn.

"What I said to Saleria in my youth is more suitable here, Laetri", he said with appreciation as he gently ran his hand through her long silver hair. Laetri laughed lightly as she put an arm about his waist, and turned her face to meet his eyes.

"Thank you for seeing the blessed lands through my eyes, Eragon-elda…or does my hair shine like the strands of heaven's light?" she asked him with a hint of playfulness in her eyes. Eragon's smile widened.

"Both, Laetri Drottningu, both", he confessed, and they shared a short laugh together. They stood at each other's side, with arms around each other as the sun rose as it always did.

"This morning feels special, Laetri. I have a feeling about this place I have not had anywhere else. I feel a strange sense of…" trailed off Eragon, searching for a suitable word. Laetri nodded slightly against his shoulder, looking at him with understanding eyes.

"I feel it too. It feels like home, does it not?" she asked gently. Eragon held her tighter and sampled the magics they had cast…and felt the veracity of Laetri's statement. The entire mountain and their tower seemed to echo his emotions, seemed filled with a kind of timeless joy and watchfulness.

Eragon turned to the Rider he held by her shoulders, his eyes showing the depth of his emotions. "I am glad you are by my side, Laetri. I have no doubt it feels like home because you are with me here and now. Thank you."

Laetri's bright blue eyes widened for a moment and filled with an emotion Eragon felt she reserved for him and him alone. He dared not to label their fathomless bond, her companionship was more precious to him than he could begin to express.

"You must not thank me, Eragon-elda", she said and her pale cheeks tinged with a faint pink as she continued, "this place feels like home to me, but I too think it is only because of you. I do not know why but even memories of my torment here at Formora's hands does not haunt me as it once used to."

Sahloknir's deep growl resounded through the mountain and bottomless sorrow filled Eragon at her admission. Galbatorix and his cursed Forsworn had destroyed much. Upon this very tower Formora had tormented Laetri to the edges of her sanity.

"But still it haunts you", said Eragon in a sorrowful voice. "I have failed again, it seems. My strength and skill are useless if I cannot heal my Riders with it. I had thought that the _Blessing of Telperion_ would help heal your trauma, but I failed once more."

"Some memories are a part of the soul, Eragon-elda. You have loved Arya Drottning so much that even after tearing out every emotion you had for her, echoes of it still haunt you. It is the same with me, I am afraid", she said distantly.

_Stop darkening this morning with your brooding, Eragon_, chided Saphira gently as she and Sahloknir made towards the summit of the tower, which was large enough to have accommodated Umaroth and Glaedr together. _Cherish this moment for what it is, an unforgettable piece of life with Laetri and us. There will be time for brooding when the drums of war beat in the Spine._

Eragon chuckled at his Dragon's statements, and slowly let go of Laetri as he heard Roran's footsteps heavy upon the stairs. As Roran emerged out on the top of the tower, Saphira and Sahloknir landed with a graceful thud. Roran examined the two dragons standing like massive monoliths against the bright blue sky, and tilted his head as he looked at Saphira.

"Saphira, if those elves were here, they would take much longer to compose verse about you than any other Dragon. Do you know why?", he asked innocently. Eragon frantically signalled to Roran to stop his words, and Laetri watched curiously as did Sahloknir.

_Why?_

"Because you are far larger than any other Dragon. You are so vast that-"

A mighty roar shook the tower violently as Saphira expressed her outrage, and Sahloknir discreetly stepped away from the enraged Dragon. Eragon watched his Dragon resignedly as she lowered her snout slowly to stare at a gulping Roran with brilliant blue eyes each the size of a large shield.

_Are you calling me fat?, _she asked menacingly and the tower shook once more with her anger. Roran shook his head as he backpedaled prudently and Eragon chose the moment to pacify his Saphira.

"Beloved, he is simply rambling. You are nothing less than the most beautiful Dragon ever born on Alagaesia. No dragon can ever compete with you-"

_Enough with your flattery, Eragon_, said Saphira in a miffed voice, though her emotions exuded a pleased vibe. She whipped her snout back to Roran. _You will pay for your insinuation Roran. The next time you ride with me, I will have to show you a few manoeuvres me and Eragon have developed recently. I am sure you will enjoy it._

Roran gulped and nodded fearfully. Eragon stared at him, noting the vitality and youth of his face. Satisfaction filled him as he observed his now rejuvenated cousin…his spell had worked in more than one way.

Roran joined them in their watching of the enormous landscape visible from their high position, enjoying the ethereal view. They stood tranquilly, letting the calmness and silence soothe them for a time.

"It is time, Eragon-elda", said Laetri eventually. Eragon nodded, glancing wistfully at the paradise they had created upon Utgard. _Home_, he thought wistfully as the image of the Fairth of Laetri and Arya floated to his mind…and an image of them and their dragons flying free of cares around Utgard.

_Eragon, I and Sahloknir will stay here. Carvahall cannot house us and it will create alarm among the Urgals if we are seen flying so close to Carvahall. Be careful._

_Ebrithil, we will stay in constant mind contact with you at all times_, assured Sahloknir as he sensed Eragon's concerns. Eragon nodded, and held out his hands for Roran and Laetri to grasp.

_Be careful, Saphira and Sahloknir._ _We will return at the earliest._

With a great flash of light the three disappeared from the summit of Ristvak'baen, leaving the two Dragons of sapphire and gold to stand still and majestic among motes of floating light.

…

"Lord Baron!" came the frantic voice of a Page, and Baron Holcomb was forced to look away from the battle plans he was constructing. The Baron was a grey haired man of fifty, having seen more than his share of war and slaughter.

"Come in", he said gruffly, and the Page allowed himself into the sparsely appointed study of the Baron of Carvahall. Holcomb was not interested in the usual frippery of the gentry and had taken great pains to keep his quarters simple and utilitarian.

It simple consisted of a few racks of documents and a couple tables of wood, and of course magic to ensure silence and quiet in its private halls. Holcomb looked up as the page stood before him, hastily trying to gather his breath. He sighed, resigning himself to news of another Urgal incursion.

_Blast those Urgals_, he thought angrily. _Why do they always have to be so difficult to deal with?_

"Lord Baron", said the Page breathlessly. "The sentry has held at the gates three strangers, my lord. They wear hooded cloaks of elven make and have deigned to identify themselves only in your presence. The city guard requests your decision as to their admittance!"

Holcomb's face showed his interest at the news…it was not often he received visitors of the elvenkind. Perhaps Queen Arya had not forgotten them after all, for it seemed King Palencar certainly had. His pleas for reinforcement had gone unheeded and if the Urgals attacked with full force, then Carvahall would fall.

"I will meet with them", he said firmly. "But watch them carefully. The times are dangerous here in Carvahall and we must not let our guard down. I will receive them here in my study."

The Page bowed deeply, and hurried out of the study. "_Brisingr"_, said Holcomb quietly and the torches burned bright, lifting the study out of its dimly lit state. It would take time for the guests to arrive within his keep, and he relaxed on his chair and sighed.

He was wearying of the constant war with the Urgals, and his people could see it in his bearing. He was the last of the line of Stronghammer, the line that had kept the village strong and prosperous. Leanna, the love of his life was taken from him twenty years ago and his parents had died about a year ago. Palencar was a good friend and great support to the people but he was far away in Illirea.

_Every winter, my people lose hope, _he thought sadly. _Palencar does his best but the politics in Illirea are far too involved for him to truly help. Of what use is the three race concordat if we do not help the others in times of need?_

His brooding thoughts were cut short as the doors to his study opened once more to allow three tall and hooded figures. Holcomb waved the guards away as he could see no intent to harm in their bearings…Du Weldenvarden's essence was very familiar to him, after all.

"I was told that you wished to meet with me?" he asked them abruptly. As one, the three figures lowered their hoods to reveal themselves. Holcomb gasped loudly at the sight, and soldiers immediately rushed into the study with weapons held aloft.

"At ease", he snapped as he took in the forms of his guests with disbelieving eyes. One of them was familiar to him from his childhood, so familiar that his face brought tears to Holcomb's eyes. In a great rush the dam that held back his emotions broke, and he whispered:

"_Grandfather?_"

The soldiers sheathed their weapons immediately and looked at the legendary hero returned to them after so long. Roran Stronghammer observed his grandson staring at him with deep emotion.

"Good to see you, Holcomb. I see you have not been keeping well", he laughed through his tears. Holcomb stepped forward and grabbed him in a bear hug and Roran hugged back as tightly. The last he had seen his grandson was when he was a babe of three years, and he cursed himself for forsaking his family for so long.

"Grandfather, I thought you had died", said Holcomb in a voice full of a disbelieving joy as he stepped out of the hug. The keep's soldiers were wiping their eyes at the joyful reunion of their leaders, and Holcomb waved them away once more and locked the door with magic.

"I don't die so easily, boy", growled Roran, and Holcomb was struck by how young and free Roran seemed. He remembered his grandfather as a man with a great sorrow pressing upon him, even though he tried not to show it. He shoved away his cares and concerns as he immersed himself in the happiness of his Grandfather's return.

"Whose son is he?" came the musical voice of Roran's companion, and Holcomb turned to the two most noble and wise elves he had ever seen.

The woman was undoubtedly elven, and seemed to glow from within as if magic itself was one with her. She wore a simple garb of white, held at her waist by a silver girdle of stunning make. Ornaments of an unknown crystal dangled from her ears and shone with silver light; Her hair flowed down to her slim waist in waves of silvery-white and her face was lovelier than words could say.

Yet she carried herself with a dignity and wisdom that could only be the consequence of years of experience, and he knew immediately that she was an elf who was older than most. But her beauty shone all the more for it, and Palencar could feel his mouth going dry with desire, for her form was as perfect and alluring as desire itself.

But he saw her hand being held by her companion, and Holcomb felt an unbidden reverence rise within him as he saw the tall and sagely profile. Her companion also wore a pristine white robe with no adornments, and he sported a mane of silver hair that fell down to his shoulders.

He was as handsome as the woman was beautiful, and in his indigo eyes shone a strength and wisdom he had seen once on the face of Gilderien the wise. Holcomb's eyes drifted to the weapon belted to the elf' side, and he felt an overpowering rush as he saw the _Liduen Kvaedhi_ inscribed on its Sapphire sheath.

_Brisingr._

"It cannot be" he whispered as he knelt down involuntarily in the presence of the mythical Rider. "It cannot be. After all these years…"

The soldiers were on alert once more as they gripped their swords tightly, but Holcomb glanced at Roran who was nodded at him affirmatively. The Baron bowed his head as overpowering joy and hope flooded through his being;

"_Eragon Kingslayer_", he whispered in a voice brimming with utter amazement. The soldiers knelt down as one, following their baron as they stared at their smiling guest with wide eyes. "You have come home at last", he said softly as he bowed his head to the legendary Rider.

"Rise, Baron Holcomb", said Eragon firmly. "I am your grand-uncle after all. Please do not bow to me…in the days of yore, Carvahall did not thrive on such formalities. It makes me uncomfortable when family insists on such protocol. Call me Eragon."

Holcomb got up hurriedly and he could not keep his eyes off his newly introduced guests.

"Who is your companion, Eragon?" he asked in a dazed voice, absorbing just who stood before him. Eragon smiled.

"This is Laetri, my companion of a hundred and a score years and Rider of Sahloknir. She was with me from the times of the war as a member of my original elven guard of twelve", said Eragon, and Holcomb bowed deeply to the Lady.

"You are most welcome here, Laetri svit-kona", he murmured respectfully. Then he glanced at his soldiers who did not seem to know what to do.

"Arrange for a great feast. This is a time of hope and joy…my family has returned to me at last!" declared Holcomb with a fierce exultation in his heart. "Please, seat yourself", he said to the guests as he pulled up a chair.

Eragon held out a chair for Laetri, who sat with a nod of thanks and then seated himself gracefully. Roran sat down heavily on his chair and looked at Holcomb:

"How is Helga?"

"She died, Grandfather", said Holcomb sorrowfully. "Mother was already tired of this world after father's and Leanna's death. She held on long enough for my sake and passed away last winter. Uncle Geran and Uncle Helidan died five years ago when an Urgal party raided their retinue", he finished in a weary voice.

Roran wiped his tears with cuff of his sleeve, and Laetri held Eragon's hand tightly as even the Kingslayer wept for the niece and nephew he would never know. Then anger filled him suddenly as he considered the misfortune his niece had been put through.

"I am the last of your line, Grandfather. I am sorry", said Holcomb in a resigned voice.

"No", said Eragon in a certain voice as his tears dried. "No, my boy. You are not the last. I am still here as is Roran. And Ismira is still alive", he said in a sad voice.

"What?" exclaimed Holcomb. "Aunt Ismira is still alive?" he shouted in a surprised voice, and Roran's face filled with grief before he controlled himself.

"She is. But she is under the control of a Shade", he informed his grandson. Holcomb's face fell at this news but Eragon cut in.

"I will bring her back, Holcomb", he said in a voice of steel. "The Shade will die by my sword, this I swear to you", he said in the ancient language. Holcomb nodded with wide eyes at this declaration, seeming to slump in relief.

"This is too much to digest at once, Grandfather", he complained to Roran who grinned.

"I know", he said simply. "But me and Eragon, we rescued your grandmother from the Ra'zac all those years ago. I have faith that we can get back my daughter from that foul Shade's influence, do not fear."

"I wish I could join you", sighed the Baron. "But Carvahall is on the brink of siege by the Urgals. I have sent missives to Palencar by the dozen but he simply says reinforcements are on their way. I have watchers for leagues away from here, but they reported nothing."

Eragon and Laetri glanced at each other, and Laetri stated, "Baron, your reinforcements are in truth here."

Holcomb looked at her doubtfully. "My Lady, I would not doubt your word, but I have kept watch long and hard for any army. The plains are empty as ever, and as menacing as ever. I have heard no whisper of any army."

"You do not listen, boy", interrupted Roran gruffly. "Laetri svit-kona just told you. Eragon and she are here, and they will not let any army of Urgals sack Carvahall. I swear, you are just like Helga was, always jumping around eagerly with no regard to listening."

"I don't think you understand", said the Baron quietly. "The Urgals came at us in force twice in the past, and both times we needed Palencar's armies to supplement ours. They will send at least seven thousand Kull pouring through the spine and we cannot hold them all back without a real army. Forgive me, Eragon, my Lady…but I do not think even you can hold back such reckless hate", he finished with a hint of scepticism.

"You have your doubts, it is understandable", began Eragon amiably. "But I ask that you have faith in my abilities. For more than one hundred years I have delved deep into the mysteries of magic and the intricacies of swordsmanship, and I have long studied the workings of the world and history. We can help to hold Carvahall, Holcomb, if you let us."

Holcomb still looked doubtful. "I cannot base my people's lives off an uncertainty, Eragon, you must understand that. You are undoubtedly powerful; you have to be in order to have killed the Dark King. But…"

Eragon sighed. "Very well. I know you can use magic, so look into our minds and decide for yourself. But be careful", he warned. Holcomb nodded and extended a tendril of awareness to Eragon's open mind and blanched.

_Are you convinced, Baron Holcomb?_, a rich and clearly female voice resounded in his mind. _Saphira?_, he asked curiously.

_Yes. I know you are honoured to meet me,_ she said impatiently and Eragon and Laetri chuckled. _Are you convinced of my Rider's strength?_, she repeated.

Holcomb only nodded dumbly…there was no way he could not be. He had touched the Menoa Tree's sleeping mind once and once only, and he could see no end to the depth and vastness of her mind. To this day, he had believed that no one could compare to her…but now, his belief was broken.

Eragon Shadeslayer's mind was just as deep and unfathomable, filled with strains and melodies he could not begin to grasp. One glimpse at it had him almost fainting, so he had retracted immediately. He felt like an ant trying to conceptualize the vastness of an ocean as he tried to shake off the aftereffects of glimpsing its fey depths.

"Are you really only a Rider?", he asked Eragon weakly. Eragon remained silent at the query, but Laetri answered quietly for him.

"He is much, much more than just a Rider, Baron. He passed beyond the definition of Rider, human and Elf a long time ago", she stated sadly. Eragon clasped his hands solemnly and looked at the slumped Baron.

"We will keep watch from Utgard Mountain, from the tower of Ristvak'baen. Carvahall is clearly visible from there, Holcomb. When the Urgals come, we will be there to drive them back", he assured the Baron firmly.

"We will leave you both to talk", he said to Roran. "Ristvak'baen must be warded once more, and we both must attend to it as soon as possible. We will return to discuss the current war in a few hours, Roran."

"As you wish", said Roran, looking through the window at Carvahall with a nostalgic look upon his face. Holcomb suddenly looked at Eragon with an understanding expression.

"You caused that light upon Utgard, didn't you? I was about to send a detachment of my men to the mountain today, the magic was so potent", he reminisced. Eragon smiled mysteriously.

"It was us, yes", he said and took Laetri's hand. "You will understand if you visit there, Holcomb. We will be back tonight", he stated and disappeared with Laetri in a blast of Indigo light. The dazed Baron looked around at his returned Grandfather.

"Shall we?"

…


End file.
